


Under the Winter Moon

by Khawapashi



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Awkward Romance, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Christmas Fluff, Death and the Maiden, Evil Wizard Snoke, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Holiday Feelings, Force Bond (Star Wars), Grumpy Luke, HAE as always, Happy Ending, Holiday Reylo, If Hallmark Did Pagan Themes, Kylo is Elsa I guess, Loss of Virginity, Magical Artifacts, Mythology References, Nosy Neighbors, Or Whatever You Want to Call It, Pagan Festivals, Pagan Gods, Redeemed Ben Solo, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Rey Needs A Hug, Ritual Sex, Slow Burn, Solstice celebrations, Sun/Moon - Freeform, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey, Winter Solstice, Winter/Summer, Witch Rey, Yuletide, and a stiff drink, but not Christmas, everyone ships it, holiday feels, magical curses, past mistakes, reylo au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-16 19:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khawapashi/pseuds/Khawapashi
Summary: In the kingdom of Solstice, the people suffer under the curse of The Thousand-Year Winter, where the sun never breaks through the clouds, and preciptation falls daily, only varying from snow to rain to ice and back again.As the commonfolk prepare to celebrate the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, a newly-minted young witch is called to tend an injured man - a stranger to the small hamlet of Riverwind in the high mountains. And while he is handsome and polite, Rey's mysterious patient is clearly more than he seems, and it appears he has some dark secrets, despite his initial, shocking mistake of giving his true name to an unknown witch...And as she tends his wounds and nurses him back to health, Rey recieves some unexpected visitors, and finds herself keeping her own secrets as well...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love the holiday fluff fics, but I don't see many pagan-themed ones and I've been toying with this idea of Rey as a Discworld-style witch for some time, so... An old English teacher once advised me to 'write things you want to read yourself' and it's still one of my favorite bits of inspiration. The imagery of the Winter King awakened/reborn as the Sun King on the solstice is just so beautiful to me, in all of its many iterations, I wanted to give it my own spin.
> 
> I suppose there's a bit of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in here as well, which seems perfect to me, as Narnia is a mix of Christian and Pagan themes itself.
> 
> I'm hoping to have this finished by the 21st, but that's a week away, so we'll see...

With the year's first snow just beginning to stick outside, Rey had settled herself in for the evening at her a cozy hearth, happily juggling a lethargic kitten and a bag of knitting on her lap. Technically, it was always winter in the country of Solstice, but the temperature still varied enough for seasons, if only just. Precipitation fell almost constantly, rain in the spring and summer months, sleet and ice and snow from Sawan to Beltane.

You’d expect people would be accustomed to the weather patterns by now, but every year it was as if winter hit them all unawares, and Rey expected to be busy from now until the springtime fertility festival. She had completed her own chores just in time, getting the goats and ponies settled in the overhang, nice and warm against the outer wall of the hearth, all of her pots of dormant herbs brought in and the salted hams hung in the kitchen.

As the evening darkened, she let herself relax, hoping against hope that the villagers had heeded her warnings about the oncoming snow and prepared themselves, but of course… Why do that when they could just send one of the children playing in the gathering drifts to fetch her? 

Firm knocking startled her lap warmer, and Daisy lifted her head, ears flattening slightly as she fixed her bright blue and green eyes on the door. Despite being deaf in one ear, she had recovered well from the cart accident Rey had rescued her from, and was proving to be an excellent mouser and companion. She stroked the cat’s snowy white head apologetically.

“Sorry, love. Duty calls.” She nudged the animal with her leg and she jumped down so Rey could stand, placing her knitting away carefully to keep it from Daisy's destructive claws.

“Miss Rey!” A voice she recognized well called through the door. “There's a traveler at Poe's, been injured somewhat badly! Mum says to hurry and bring your best magic.”

Despite her previous state of relaxation, the witch in Rey's bones responded instinctively, and it only took her a minute before she was outside, feet stuffed into her boots and her satchel thrown over her shoulder. The young girl on her porch wa shivering in light pajamas and an overlarge men's jacket, her hands and ears bare, and Rey gave her a passing frown.

“Go inside and get my spare mittens and hat before you head back, Paige. I don't need another patient to tend.” She waited for the girl to nod, slipping into the cottage as Rey shut the thick wooden door firmly behind her. She'd have to have a firm talk with Rose about proper winter apparel, although coming from the tavern, in a man’s coat, she suspected the neglectful parent was Finn.

Holding her hand out, she summoned her broom from beside the lean-to, earning her a startled bleat from one of the ornrier goats.

“Oh, get over it, Titus,” she shook her head, spying the horned, black billy goat under the shelter. “And don't you dare break that gate again.”

She leapt up to the floating broom at her side, pulling the hood of her coat up before she directed it down through the valley. It wasn't a long distance from Rey's cottage to the village center, but if this traveler was so grievously injured, every moment counted.

All of the lights were on in Poe's tavern, but most of the usual guests seemed to have gone home, disgusted by the wounded man, or possibly kicked out by Rose. She dropped her broom at the door and ducked inside, eyes quickly taking in the well-lit room, mostly empty except for a few, namely Poe Dameron, the tavern-keeper, who milled uneasily at the door, his eyes brightening considerably when he noticed her.

“Oh, Rey, thank the spirits!” He reached to help her out of her cloak, but she shouldered past him, to the hearthside where a very large man was laid out on one of the two big tables, his chest half-bared beneath a torn shirt and dark red bloodstains.

Rose Tico, the village smith and her closest thing to a friend since she'd come to the little hamlet of Riverwind, bowed over him worriedly, dabbing at the wounds with a damp cloth.

“Is it just here?” She asked, eyeing the ugly gouge from just above his brow, down his neck and biting deeply into his shoulder. Swiftly, she ripped away his torn clothes, not at all affected by the muscles gleaming underneath, or the pale sheen of sweat and melted snow on his pale skin.

Rey realised she was just standing there, drawing a hand along the thick line of his arms, and stopped abruptly, digging in her supplies for something to clean the wounds so she could have a better look. At least she could tell by his pulse he was stable, if unconscious. “Is he bleeding anywhere else?”

“Um.” Rose glanced up, her cheeks slightly pink beneath her wide eyes. “I didn't think to have a look at… The rest of him…”

Rey bit her lip, grabbing the cloth and bowl from her hands and rolling her eyes, as if she too hadn't noticed the way her new patient was built. Spirits help her, she hoped he wasn't an evil sorcerer or a bandit king working on a long con. If he was, he'd already succeeded.

“Get me some clean water and more towels, please.” She sighed, hands gentle as she wiped his face clean to check the damage to his eye.

Free of blood and dirt, the stranger's face was angular but handsome, and she couldn't help but think his aquiline nose and dark lashes were too noble for a simple thief. Miraculously, his eye appeared intact, though he groaned and grunted as she pulled the lid up to check.

“Easy, now. You've had a bad accident,” she soothed, continuing to clean his wound as his eyelids fluttered restlessly. “You're going to be in some pain for quite a while. Now if you can speak, I need to know if you have any other wounds, or if this is the only one -”

“No…” He mumbled, one hand flying up to grip her arm as his consciousness surged back. Rey stilled, confident in her ability to restrain him if necessary, but accustomed to patients who were a little disoriented upon waking from trauma.

“Where…” He coughed, releasing her to try and rise, and fell back with a hiss and a heavy thump. “Dammit! Where am I?”

“The village of Riverwind, high in the northern mountains of the kingdom of Solstice.”

Dark eyes fixed on her, some element of surprise softening them as he took her in, and he seemed to relax a little.

“And who are you?”

“I'm Rey. The village witch.” She met his gaze firmly, refusing to back down even an inch under that penetrative stare. “Are you injured anywhere besides your face and neck? On your back or legs or -”

“No. Just here.” He raised a hand, and Rey quickly swatted it away. “What -”

“Your hands are filthy! Wait until we get you cleaned up and properly stitched.” He blinked, as if only processing that she was, indeed, a witch. His jaw worked thoughtfully, and the movement seemed to pain him. “What's your name?”

He stared, as if remembering every story that cautioned small children against giving their true name to a witch. And then, for some reason, he told her anyway.

“It's Ben.”

He held her eyes, and Rey gaped at him, her mouth parted slightly as her power flared, confirming that it was his _true_ name.

“I -”

 She never got to finish, as he closed his eyes again, returning to his previous state of unconsciousness. Rey frowned.

 At least this way it'd be easier to stitch him up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a witch, aren’t you?” He tried to avoid her gaze, dropping his eyes to pet the kitten in his lap, but Rey leaned across the table, her voice low. “Ben. Look at me.”
> 
> Keen eyes met his as he looked up, once again helpless under her command. Oh, he was in for it. Totally and completely conquered by this scrappy young witch, all because he’d made the idiotic mistake of giving her his true name. Because he’d seen those innocent hazel eyes and cringed at the notion of telling her what he was, what he had come to be over the centuries that had passed since anyone had ever called him Ben.

He woke up in stages, unlike last time. The first thing he was aware of wasn't pain, but warmth. Not stifling, but comforting. He was on his back, and the source of the warmth lay in a small pool on his chest. He lifted his hand carefully, freeing it from the confines of a pile of blankets, and felt smooth, warm fur. A soft rumbling vibration coursed through his chest, and he opened his eyes, blinking down at the round scrap of white kitten.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, chuckling as the kitten twitched its ears and cracked an eye open to glare, daring him to move and disturb it. “Where are we, hmm?”

He looked around, careful not to disturb the creature using him as a bed, and noted he seemed to be in a single-roomed cabin, rough wooden walls lined with bookshelves and other shelves holding a large collection of glass jars and other supplies he recognized. His eyes found a work table across the room, half-shielded by a dark curtain, with sacred candles and magical sigils worked in the wood, and he cursed.

One memory swirled up to taunt him, amid the vague swamp of pain and desperation that swallowed up his most recent days. Confused hazel eyes, narrowed as he spoke, and strong, slim fingers blotted at the wound across his shoulder.

Rey. The village witch.

He had given her his name. His  _ true _ name.

He reached up to run his fingers cautiously over the bandages, gently pressing to feel the measured, neat stitches that trailed down his body in a long line. At least he was lucky enough to keep his eye.

A white paw brushed his hand as he moved it, in much the same gesture her master had used in knocking his hand away before. He could feel the threat of claws, held back for the moment as the kitten watched him imperiously with its unmatched eyes.

“Don't worry, I'll be good.” He ran his thumb up between its eyes, caressing the small head, and she leaned into it, purring. “I would appreciate it if you'd let me get up, please.”

One green eye opened, and she yawned hugely, showing off sharp teeth and a long pink tongue. With another reproachful glare, the kitten leapt from his chest to settle in a nearby chair, and Ben slowly sat up, finding himself on a well-made pallet beside the hearth.

The blankets shifted around him, and he also found himself to be nude, or nearly, clothed only in his faded, rewashed underwear and a pair of thick, homespun wool socks. He hesitated, looking around, but there was only the kitten, and his eyes zeroed in on the small door in the back of the cabin with a neatly cross-stiched sign reading ‘Soap is NOT a Suggestion!’ hanging from it.

Definitely a witch, as if the shelves and enchanting table and heterochromic kitten weren’t sign enough. There was no such thing as a slovenly witch.

He was busy following the sign’s instructions as best he could with the provided bar of homemade peppermint soap and indoor pump, wincing at the splash of icy water on his skin, when he heard the front door open and close with a firm slam. Quickly, he groped for a towel from the nearby shelf, half-blind from damp strands of hair hanging in his eyes, and wiped his face and hands.

“Oh!” The witch halted in surprise, her steps stopping halfway across the cabin. “Um. H-hello? Mr… Uh…”

Grimacing, he glanced at the ridiculous scrap of fabric in his hands, briefly debating on trying to cover anything more with it, before hanging it over the sink with a shrug and emerging to meet his host. Obviously she’d been taking care of him since… whenever he’d arrived… and she was a witch, so surely she wouldn’t be the blushing type.

“Sorry,” he stepped out of the watercloset quickly, shutting it behind him and promptly wishing he hadn’t. Of course she wasn’t blushing, but he that left him completely unprepared for his own reaction upon gaining a proper view of the young woman he’d rashly decided to trust with his true name. “Ahh… you’re very young, for a witch.”

She crossed her arms, and his mind helpfully replayed his words to him, as if they wouldn’t be forever seared in his memory under the top ten list of his most embarrassing moments.

“Shit. That’s not what I meant -”

“I’m glad to see you’re moving around,” she interrupted, bending to collect one of his blankets and crossing the room to hand it to him. “And that you know how to use soap.”

He gave her a baffled look as he wrapped the blanket firmly around his waist, relief flooding him at the change in topic. Rey laughed, shaking her head and gesturing to his waterlogged hair dripping down his back and neck. 

“Don’t ask, you’d be surprised how many people I’ve treated who seem to think demons will spring from hot water and bubbles.” She motioned to the foot of her bed, the width of which lay between them, made up with colorful quilts and half-covered in distinctive white hairs. “Sit down and let me look at those bandages.”

He lowered himself awkwardly, trying to appear too familiar with her space, but he needn’t have worried. Rey was only concerned with his health, calloused hands gripping his chin and resting on his uninjured shoulder, turning his body as she desired to get a closer look at the pinkened skin around the carefully-taped up wounds.

“Looks like it’s coming along without infection,” she nodded herself, backing away towards the kitchen again. “Are you in pain? Do you want a tonic, or tea?”

“Depends on what it is,” he replied without thinking, following her with slow, measured steps, carefully maneuvering into a seat at the kitchen table. “I don’t care for poppy milk, unless I’m trying to sleep.”

“Hmm.” She peered at him, biting her lip. “Goldenseal and chamomile? Willowbark? I can make you a compress, if you’d rather.”

He shook his head. A compress would require him to lie down and be still, and he had the feeling he’d done enough of that for now. 

“I’d like to sit for a while, if you don’t mind. But I won’t say no to a cup of tea.”

“Right.” He watched, silently, as she busied herself setting the kettle on the hearth and preparing the teapot, dropping two unmatched, brightly-colored mugs on the table. The one she gave him was red, and though it was large enough and sat straight, it appeared to have been molded by a child’s untrained hands.

Rey leaned against the woodblock counter, head tilted slightly to study him as they waited for the kettle to heat. The kitten trotted over from the hearth to jump into his lap, and she quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s odd. Daisy usually hates company.”

“She was sleeping on me when I woke up,” he mused, grunting as the little beast circled round, tiny paws like pinpoints jabbing into his sensitive areas. He gave the mismatched gaze a wry look. “So it’s Daisy, is it?”

She rolled an eye at them both before settling down with her fluffy white tail dropped over her nose, gently kneading with impunity.

“Sorry,” Rey snorted. “She’s not happy unless you’re inconvenienced.”

“I’ve had cats before,” he assured her, delicately resettling the ball of fur. “I prefer them to people, honestly. Of course, I prefer most any animal over people.”

“I think we’re in agreement, there.” Rey favored him with a slight smile, though her eyes were still sharp and narrow. “Why did you give me your name?”

“I don’t… I don’t remember any other,” he stuttered, lying.

“Really,” she said, flatly disbelieving. “No use-name? Nick-name? Shall I just call you  _ Ben _ then?”

He stiffened, responding to flux of power between them when she uttered the simple syllable, mouth parting in a faint gasp. Rey had leaned forward, now her eyes held his as he gazed at her, completely stunned and at her mercy.

Not just any witch, then. A powerful one.

He was saved by the kettle whistling, and they dropped the moment like it had never happened, Rey filling the teapot and getting out cream and sugar and a tin of shortbread cookies and arranging them neatly on the table for his benefit. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t like anything in his herbal teas, so he added a small teaspoon of sugar and helped himself to a cookie.

“I expect you’re hungry,” she said, watching another cookie disappear down his throat. “You’ve been out since the day before yesterday.”

“What day is it? It was twenty days before the solstice last I remember.” He tried to his sudden panic, but the young witch missed nothing. No wonder she was already out of apprenticeship in a village of her own. “I’d… hoped to make it home again, before the winter solstice.”

“I see. And where is home?  _ Ben? _ ”

He shuddered, hunching over his tea.

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” He tried to avoid her gaze, dropping his eyes to pet the kitten in his lap, but Rey leaned across the table, her voice low. “ _ Ben. Look at me. _ ”

Keen eyes met his as he looked up, once again helpless under her command. Oh, he was in for it. Totally and completely conquered by this scrappy young witch, all because he’d made the idiotic mistake of giving her his true name. Because he’d seen those innocent hazel eyes and cringed at the notion of telling her what he was, what he had come to be over the centuries that had passed since anyone had ever called him  _ Ben. _

“I need answers,” Rey demanded. “Are you, or were you ever a witch?”

“Yes,” he breathed, unable to stop her methodical destruction of him.

“Where is your home?”

“Hrothgar.”

“How did you get injured?”

“Fighting a basilisk. I found a female and followed it back to its lair, thinking it was alone, but it had a mate and pups.” This he didn’t mind telling her. A monster like that was a danger to everyone nearby, part of a witch’s job was to destroy or relocate them. “I killed the mate, but the female savaged me and I had to flee.”

“What do people usually address you as?”

“Nothing.” Technically, it was true. “No one has addressed me by name in hundreds of years.”

“Hundreds… of years…” She whispered in disbelief. He could only sigh, certain she had gathered the nature of him now. “You’re a very old witch.”

“And you’re very young.” Stupid, stupid. Why was he taunting her suddenly?

“How do you know that? I could be just as old as you!” Her eyes flashed with anger and he held up his hands placatingly. “Well?”

“I can just tell! It’s not that you’re…” Rey’s eyes narrowed as he stuttered, reaching for words. It had been so very long since he’d had such a long conversation with anyone other than himself. “You’re clearly very competent. It’s just… Your eyes. They’re young. When you’ve seen the world as I have, you… You see the same eyes, in different people.”

“And what do you see in mine?”

His voice was barely audible, and he surprised himself with the swiftness and veracity of his answer.

“Hope.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I’d better make myself a warm bit of drink soon,” she told the mask. “I can’t have found the mask of Winter and seen sunlight on the same day.”

"There’s stew on the hearth and I’ve laid out my best herbs and clean bandages on the kitchen table,” Rey explained quickly as her strange guest came out of the washroom. She was grateful that he took it upon himself to keep clean as much as possible, though he had needed her assistance last night when he decided to shave as much as he could. 

That had been oddly intimate, both of them awkward and blushing, and she wasn’t looking forward to repeating it any time soon. Or maybe she was, but she told herself sternly it wasn’t the time, it was the height of stupidity to offer her bed to a patient, and anyway, he was clearly withholding some dark secret. Until he offered her more in the way of personal information, Rey would keep their interactions as impersonal as possible.

“Are you going out? In this?” He gestured to the snow piling up on the windowsill outside, and she shrugged.

“I’m not walking. I’ve flown in worse storms.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed the cabin in two huge strides to loom over her, still wrapped in blankets as she had yet to secure any more serviceable clothing that would stretch around his massive body. Finn had offered to make alterations in some of his old thermals, but it would take a few days as he was busy patching and adding insulation to half a dozen projects the other villagers had waited until the last minute to pile upon him.

It shouldn’t bother her. She had seen plenty of bodies, of all kinds, male and female. She’d delivered babies and treated poxes and performed encantations of fertility under the guidance of her old master. Last summer, when Poe fell off his horse during the Midsummer Festival and pulled a muscle in his groin, he’d screamed so loud she had ordered everyone out and had Finn cut away his clothing to make sure everything was still there and undamaged.

“Where are you going? How long will you be gone?” His eyes dipped, lingering over her face, and some small part of her wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked.

“Not too long.” She forced herself to meet his inquiring look. “Are you really worried about me?”

He exhaled, his breath reaching her cheek and she backed up slightly, trying desperately not to think of what she would find if she cut away that last bit of fabric covering his body. He huffed irritably, going instead to look over the items Rey had carefully laid out on the table, and she sat on the edge of her bed, stuffing her feet into thick winter boots.

“Even witches make mistakes, Rey.” He gestured to his bandages with a self-deprecating smirk. “If you need proof…”

“I’m well aware, thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “Hopefully, I’ll have better luck than you.”

“You’re going to find the basilisk? Alone?” He lurched to his feet, making to block the door, and Rey rushed forward, colliding directly with his firmly-planted chest.

She growled as he gripped her shoulders, attempting to walk her backwards. As if she’d let him overpower her in her own bloody house!

“ _ Ben!” _ She hissed in anger. “You can’t stop me.”

His step froze, but his hands retained their iron grip on her arms as she looked up into his half-grimace, for the first time fighting against her direct command.

“I think you’ll find I can,” he replied arrogantly. “I refuse to let you put yourself in danger, Rey. If I couldn’t dispatch the beasts, what makes you think you can?”

“Because I’m not going to  _ dispatch _ them! I’m going to relocate them, as soon as I find a proper place far enough away.” She met his scowl with her own. “Unlike you, I don’t find it necessary to charge into battle against every dangerous creature I come across! They’re just animals, it’s not their fault the Thousand Year curse made them monstrous.”

“They’re dangerous, Rey! You can’t always count on leading them away, they come back -”

“Yes, and I intended to reinforce the village’s wards as soon as I get the monsters off our doorstep!” She yanked her arms viciously, and he released her, shaking his head. “I’ve been well-trained in my craft, believe me. Master Luke was the oldest witch at the gathering, and he chose me!”

“You…” His dark eyes bulged, staring as if he suddenly saw her in a new light. “Luke trained you? Luke Skywalker?”

“Do you know any other ancient witches named Luke?” She rolled her eyes. “I have to go, Ben. It’s already past dawn. Feed Daisy, okay? I’ll try to be back by nightfall.”

He stood back as she gathered her satchel and shrugged into her coat and furred cloak, her short, moonstone-topped staff slung over her back.

“Fine. I’ll give you an hour after it gets dark.” There was a glimmer of something new in his eyes, respect or affection, something that saw her as more than just an everyday village witch. It warmed her deep inside, soft and unsettling and darkly promising. “If you’re any later, I’m coming to find you.”

“Please don’t, you don’t even have proper clothes -”

“Just come back, okay?” He held her with that strange look in his eyes, begging and possessive at once. “Please, Rey.”

“I’ll come back.”

  
  


She tried to shake Ben out of her thoughts as she directed her broom over the general area where he had described the basilisk’s lair, magical senses alert for any kind of unusual energy or spark of dark power that heralded one of the cursed beasts. Solstice had always been a land steeped in magic, even before the Thousand-Year Winter, but most of the wild beasts and common people had been normal, nonmagical and happy to be so.

Then one of the witches, a young knight tricked by a cruel master, had taken up the mask of Winter and gone to the sacred altar in Hrothgar with his chosen maiden and instead of lying with her to complete the Awakening, he’d murdered her. The master he served had convinced him that such heresy would make him immortal, and it had, but at a terrible, terrible price. When the knight discovered the extent of his master’s treachery, he had murdered him, too, but he could not save the kingdom from the ensuing storm. Cursed to walk the earth until he found another Maiden of Light to fulfil the ritual, the witch knight had distanced himself from all who knew him, wearing the mask of Winter at all times, until his name and origins had been forgotten with time.

Now he was simply the Winter Knight, a formless boogeyman that mothers used to scare their children, and farmers blamed for every misfortune. Most didn’t even believe he was real, but the witches knew better. Sometimes, on a rare Winter Solstice, the Knight would join their circle at Hrothgar watching as some other man took up a fake mask of parchment and clay, and laughingly escorted his chosen lover to the chamber in the center of the mountain.

Master Luke believe he was still looking, that the real Maiden would show herself some day, and the Thousand-Year Winter would end, returning the land to its natural seasons and reversing the dark magic that twisted the wild creatures into monsters and made undead nightmares of men who died in the frozen depths.

Master Luke also believed in astrology and divination, which Rey personally thought was a pleasant, but useless sham. Even if it predicted successfully, it was too vague to be of any real comfort until the events had already occurred, and the best readers she knew were simply good mind-healers, adept at empathy and sage advice. The cards and stones and dice were merely props to convince folk to pay attention, and while props had their place, Rey prefered a more honest approach.

Something below caught her attention, a brush of ordered magic in the chaos of the forest, and she circled around, casting a seeking spell to narrow down her search. Just beyond the road, where it branched onward to Hrothgar, something glowed with the soft red light of her spell, and she brought her broom down, leaving it to float by the roadside as she took a closer look.

“What…?” She whispered to herself as she finished clearing away the layers of snow covering it, scowling at the silvery-blue metal. “Where did you come from?”

Rey shook the object clear of snow and dirt with trembling hands, drawing a finger over the intricate silver and blue swirls, precious diamonds and deep sapphires encrusting an otherwise simple from. It was shockingly familiar, and just as shockingly out of place.

She held it out before her, imaging the dark eyes she had once seen peering curiously through the cut-outs. A tiny bit of sapphire glinted suddenly, like a brightly-flaring candle, and instinctively, Rey jerked her head up, eyes scanning the murky sky.

“I suppose the monsters will have to wait,” she murmured. “Unless I’m dreaming.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, breathing the frozen air as deeply as she could, and exhaled a long, slow breath, centering herself. When she opened her eyes, the mask was still there, as intricate and gem-encrusted as before. And as she summoned her broom, the light in the stones flared again, reflectively, and she scowled at the sky, daring, pleading for something she knew she could  _ not _ have seen.

“I think I’d better make myself a warm bit of drink soon,” she told the mask. “I can’t have found the mask of Winter and seen sunlight on the same day.”

  
  


She had almost forgotten about her guest by the time she returned, the precious item tucked gently inside her satchel, wrapped in a piece of spare burlap. Ben was standing by the hearth, peering silently into the fire as the kettle boiled, when she came barging in the door, intent on going to her worktable.

“It’s not even afternoon yet,” he began, turning. “Have you -”

Rey held up her hand, forestalling anything from him as she hastily rid herself of her cloak and coat and boots.

“I don’t have time to discuss it. I found something on the road, and I need to speak with Master Luke.” She looked back and forth between him and her work table. “Privately.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll just step outside.” He eyed her, deadpanning, and Rey sighed. “No, really, it’s fine -”

“Can you just… take my cloak and feed the ponies and goats? It’s warm in the hutch and it won’t take long.” She watched him, hoping he would just let her have this, just for once. He had no reason to be so damn… nosey about her. She gestured to a bucket hanging over the sink. “They’ll need water, too. And don’t let Titus guard the feed trough, he’ll eat it all and then throw up. Please?”

It was a ridiculous thing to ask a guest, let alone a patient, but Rey was overwhelmed, and afterall, he  _ was _ a witch. And he did admit to preferring animals over people. Ben stared at her, a muscle twitching under his eyes, looking as if he was prepared to argue until the sun went down, but suddenly he caved.

“Alright. Which one’s Titus?”

“Trust me. You’ll know.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rey,” he grinned, waiting for her to finish eating before he leaned forward, swiping a crumb from her lips. “Don’t tell me you found the mask of Winter.”
> 
> Her lips parted, and without a thought, he cupped her chin in a delicate grasp, very gently pressing his thumb against her bottom lip. Rey’s eyes flashed, heat flaring as they met his, and before she could answer he bent forward and replaced his thumb with his lips.

Ben felt the mask the moment Rey had entered with it, and at first he’d hoped she would leave it lying in her satchel, where he could sneak it away in the night. But, of course, she had done what any competent, well-educated witch would do.

Attempt to contact her master.

Holding the cloak firmly with one hand, he set down the water bucket on the porch before yanking the door shut behind him. Briefly, he thought of just leaving Rey’s cumbersome overcloak on the porch as it confined his movements, but her cottage was not far from the village, and if anyone saw him wandering outside with nothing on over his waist, well… Villagers loved to gossip, and Rey wasn’t dumb.

He was lucky she hadn’t put two and two together as it was.

So he slumped around, clutching the too-small cloak around his shoulders, filling the water trough and then returning to the locked bin beside the cabin door for grass feed and oats. He snorted as the big black goat, nearly as wide in the middle as he was long, attempted to herd him around, neighing in disgust when he was unfazed by its headbutting.

“Stop.” Ben held his hand out, palm facing the animal. “Be still.”

The goat snorted, but his command held firm, and he shook his head, laughing slightly in relief. It was a ridiculous thought, but he’d worn the mask for so long, he almost expected to forget his more basic powers. Fortunately, although he’d never been great at herbcraft or surgery or… people in general… his knack for animals was still there.

He took as much time as he could, filling both feed troughs and watching to make sure the pushy goats allowed Rey’s two stocky little ponies to eat their fill. One of the nanny goats appeared to struggling, and it looked as if she’d be relieved by a milking, so he found a clean steel bucket and took care of her and the only other female goat as well.

But those chores could only take so long, and eventually Ben was back at the front door, absurdly knocking to ensure he didn’t interrupt Rey’s sending.

“I’m coming, Ben!” She called. “I have to go, Master, my patient -”

“Did I hear you say Ben?”

“Uhhh… That’s his name, yes.” She was quiet, and he could almost hear her frown. “Why? Do you know him? I know he’s a witch, and he said he’s from Hrothgar -”

Ben’s heart pounded as it hadn’t in at least a couple of centuries, and he was just about to rush in and try to interrupt her connection with Luke Skywalker, when the old man just chuckled.

“Yes, I think I recall a young man named Ben. It must have been… Oh, half a millenia, I think.” Said young man snorted. Of course, Luke was going for the usual angle. Possibly he thought Rey could be the Maiden, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit to his own age. “Nice, shy fellow. Very smart, but not so good with plants or people.”

“I sent him out to feed the goats, I’m sure he’s freezing,” Rey said hurriedly, interrupting Luke’s yammering. “Thank you, Master. I’ll see at the solstice.”

“Oh, yes, I expect so. Don’t worry about Ben, he’s got a good heart.”

Ben stood on the porch, blinking back a sudden, frightening wetness around his eyes, with two full buckets in hand as Rey threw wide the door.

“Oh, my goodness! You didn’t have to do the milking!” She gaped, completely missing or misinterpreting his expression as she collected the milk and took it to the kitchen. “Go on an sit by the fire, I put the kettle on and I’m going to have a bit of brandy if you’d like.”

“Yes to both, please.” 

He settled on his pallet, stretching his legs, and spied his muddy, wet feet, covered only in layers of socks. As fast as he could, he yanked them off while Rey worked in the kitchen, storing the milk and setting out tea things. At first, he thought to throw them in the fire, but realised just in time what kind of smell that would cause. Instead, he balled them up in one fist and headed to the water closet.

“I’m going to wash up,” he announced in his best relaxed tone. 

“Right, sure.”

Daisy regarded him suspiciously from the middle of Rey’s bed, and he put a finger to his lips, miming silence and pleading the kitten wouldn’t do something to give him away. He ducked in quickly, slamming the door with more force than necessary, and looked around for a way to get rid of the socks without alerting Rey.

There was a small window over the claw-foot tub that thankfully opened with a well-oiled latch, and he stuffed them through as fast as he could, wiping down any remaining mud with a dirty towel. He scrubbed his hands thoroughly with soap and cold water up to the elbows, then headed back out into the cabin.

“ _ Ben!” _

Rey gasped, halfway to the table with a plate of sandwiches, her cheeks tinting pink, and he froze, looking down at himself to discern what had her so shocked. He was clean enough, no trace of dirt or mud, even between his toes, and he was at a loss for what could be so offensive to her, until he caught sight of the damp shorts that were his only article of clothing.

“Blanket!” She hissed, waving an arm towards him and pointedly staring in the opposite direction until he gave the all clear. Lap covered, he joined her at the table with a bemused expression, noting her stubborn refusal to meet his gaze.

“Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you?” She complained, sitting down and pouring herself a generous amount of brandy from a dusty bottle before sliding it to him. “Here. I’m sorry I made you go out in the cold.”

“It’s not that bad. I like goats.” He shrugged. “It was good to feel useful for once.”

“Hmm. Well, I do appreciate the help.” She pushed the plate of sandwiches towards him. “Please, eat. You can’t possibly power that massive bulk with stew and tea alone.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” He’d seen Rey eat a single half sandwich and a cup of tea all day, and it bothered him in a way he couldn’t explain. Of course she was a witch. Of course, she could and did take care of herself. But he could sense she was upset, and some part of him longed to ease her distress. “What did you have to speak to Master Luke so urgently about?”

“I found something in the woods…” She sighed, obediently taking another of the ham and cheese sandwiches and nibbling at it. “Something incredibly rare and magical and… Well, it’s been missing for a long time…”

“Rey,” he grinned, waiting for her to finish eating before he leaned forward, swiping a crumb from her lips. “Don’t tell me you found the mask of Winter.”

Her lips parted, and without a thought, he cupped her chin in a delicate grasp, very gently pressing his thumb against her bottom lip. Rey’s eyes flashed, heat flaring as they met his, and before she could answer he bent forward and replaced his thumb with his lips.

Ben’s kiss was as soft and chaste as he could make it, just a firm fitting of his lips to hers, enough to give her a taste,  to test the draw between them. He forced himself to release her just as she started to respond, leaning into it and returning the press of of his mouth.

“Well?” He asked, a teasing smirk spread across his face. “Did you?”

“Did I what?” She blinked, for a moment struck dumb, and his smirk grew wider. “Oy, you’re an arrogant bastard, aren’t you? Are you trying to bed me so you don’t have to sleep on the floor tonight?”

“Maybe. Would you?”

“You’re not well -”

“I’m well enough to feed and milk goats,” he argued, watching as she stood to get the steaming kettle from the fire and pour it into the teapot. “That’s just as strenuous.”

“Is it? Are you speaking from your hundreds of years of experience?”

“Perhaps. If I have experience, it’s only to your benefit.” He chuckled as Rey fixed him with a dark glower. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Have you never played the maiden before?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she shook her head mutely, reclaiming the brandy and pouring herself another glass. Ben blinked at her, the shock evident on his face.

“You’ve really never?”

“No.” She swallowed her drink in a single gulp. “Master Innara asked me if I had a lover at Sawan and I told her I was still…” Rey waved her hand, her blush spreading down to her collar. “Anyway, Master Luke said they want me to be there for the circle on the next solstice. It’s up to me, of course, but…”

“Will you?”

“I’m not sure yet. I said I would think about it.” Her eyes finally darted up to meet his, having swallowed just enough of the stiffening beverage to gather her courage. “So, it’s not that I don’t want to, I just… I want to think about it. I’m sorry.”

“No, Rey.” He claimed the bottle from her, pouring himself a generous amount. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m hundreds of years old. I can wait.”

“You can… wait?” She tilted her head, seeking clarification. “For me? You’ll wait for me? Even I decide to go through with it?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I? I want you for you. Not just… sharing your bed so I don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, eyes gaining a glassy, unfocused look. “Ohhh…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he didn't.
> 
> Instead, he drew his long knife, stepping away from her confused stare.
> 
> “Kylo? What… This isn't a blood sacrifice…” She eyed him, her face registering his stance with increasing alarm.
> 
> “Isn't it?” He said mildly. He remained stalwart in his defense, unmoved by what he saw as pretend concern. “Snoke told me what you planned.”

_ The dream was clearer this time, the fading of years cleared away like dust from a window. He had taken up the mask, as Snoke had instructed, and it clung to his face with a magic of its own, cold so deep it burned through his blood like a fever. _

_ Kira took his hand with a smile, no trace of treachery in her beautiful green eyes, laughing as he swung her into his arms. Her hands warmed him, threading through his hair and caressing his shoulder, and she pressed in close against him. _

_ “You're so cold.” _

_ “It's the mask,” he told her gruffly. _

_ “Well, I suppose it's good I'm here to warm you up then,” she purred suggestively, lust filling her gaze as he glanced down. _

_ He said nothing, keeping himself in check, though rage flooded him at her innocent tone, her eyelashes fluttering with excitement that he had thought they shared. _

_ When he reached the chamber, deep inside the heart of the mountain, he set her quickly upon the pile of furs laid across the smooth basalt basin. Candles had already been lit in the sconces and crevices surrounding them, reflecting off of the unmelting ice of the cave. In their light, Kira was beautiful, her russet hair tinged with red and gold highlights and her cheeks a deep pink that spilled down her neck. _

_ He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he didn't.  _

_ Instead, he drew his long knife, stepping away from her confused stare. _

_ “Kylo? What… This isn't a blood sacrifice…” She eyed him, her face registering his stance with increasing alarm. _

_ “Isn't it?” He said mildly. He remained stalwart in his defense, unmoved by what he saw as pretend concern. “Snoke told me what you planned.” _

_ “Snoke…” Her eyebrows furrowed, eyes moving over him as she thought quickly. “What did he tell you? Kylo, listen to me, you can't trust him -” _

_ “Tell me the truth, Kira.” He jerked his chin, thrusting aside her protest. “We're both supposed to be innocent of a lover's touch. It won't work otherwise.” _

_ “No, he told me it would be alright! Snoke said -” _

_ “I thought your master couldn't be trusted. Or is it you who doesn't deserve my trust? You lied to me, Kira.” He advanced on her, lips trembling beneath his attempted sneer. “You're not here to complete the ritual. You're here to bend into something selfish!” _

_ “Oh, I'm selfish?” She snapped, crossing her arms. “That's rich, coming from you! If you're so worried about my purity, why didn't you just pick someone else?”  _

_ “Would you have let me? Don't lie!” He paced in front of her, but never let her out of his sight. “You always intended to use me. To take, and take, until I have nothing left to give you! And then you'll take my life, too. How greedy can you be, when a witch's life isn't even long enough for you? You had to try and make yourself immortal!” _

_ “No, Kylo! I… that's not… Gods Above, what did Snoke -” _

_ “Empty your pockets then! Prove to me you don't have the components for blood magic on your person right now.” _

_ He had hoped then. Hoped for it to all be a lie, for Kira to turn out empty pockets, and let him apologize and take her into his arms. He had never wanted to believe Snoke, even in the face of mounting evidence. But, of course, the evil bastard had seen right through him, and made sure the evidence was indisputable. _

_ He had cried when she dropped the items - animal bones, grave dust, belladonna - one by one they fell from her hands onto the bed of furs that they were meant to share. _

_ “Kira… Why…” He stepped towards her, even then seeking to understand, but he had overlooked the final item, now clutched tightly in her hand. _

_ “I could ask you the same, Kylo.” He grunted, the small knife piercing between his ribs, but instead of pushing her away, he pulled her into his embrace. “He’s manipulated us both. Please tell me you know that.” _

_ Her tears froze as they reached the bare skin of his wrist, and he nodded, hiding his own sobs in her hair, the long knife in his hand piercing through her body and shallowly scraping his. He’d expected to die with her in his arms, holding her tightly with his fading strength, but Kira’s life had faded first. _

_ “I loved you,  _ Ben _ ,” she whispered as her eyes fell closed. “I’m sorry. But you have to fix this. It has to be  _ you. _ ” _

_ “No! NO, KIRA!” _

_ “I’m sorry…” _

_ “Please, please -” _

_ “We’ll meet again,  _ Ben Solo.  _ I promise.” _

  
  


Rey jerked awake, her mind and body alert with shock as someone spoke her name, her  _ true _ name, from somewhere nearby. She could hear Ben mumbling to himself, lost in some kind of dark dream, and she tensed, watching him, but he didn’t wake.

The cottage was sweltering, the fire having not been naked properly before they went to their respective beds, and she got up to tend to it, tiptoeing around him in her thin shift. He stirred as she moved away, one hand groping through the blankets to close around her ankle, and Rey hissed at the cold touch.

“Holy Gods, how can you be cold?!” She grumbled in a loud whisper, trying to shake his hand free. “Ugh, demons take you! Let go, Ben!”

His eyes moved rapidly under his lids, and he mumbled something that made her freeze. Eyes wide with shock and fear, she stared down, trying again to shake herself free. Surely it was just an intentional slip, a joining of syllables by sheer accident.

Then he said it again, and there was no mistaking it.

_ “Kira _ .” Dark eyes flew open at her shriek of terror, and he stared up at her in mute recognition, his face awash with awe.

“Let me go, please,” she begged, held by his hand and by his utterance of her name. “Please, Ben…”

He glanced at his hand, startled, and released her immediately, but she stood still, impossibly anchored by the sound of her name. Throwing his covers aside, he sat up, grasping her hand and pulling her down to him, and Rey stumbled, awkwardly landing astride his lap. 

“Dammit, you idiot!”

“ _ Kira _ ,” he spoke the name with such raw emotion, Rey was held hostage, and she stopped trying to get up under the pressure of his hungry gaze. “It is you.”

“How do you know that? Did you do some kind of high magic while I was gone? Did…” She swallowed. “Did Luke tell you? Is that why he remembers you?”

“No…” He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing the back and then the palm with soft, cool touches that awakened a need she’d never known. “Luke gave you that name?  _ Kira _ is your true name?”

“Well, obviously.” She heaved an irritated sigh. “Don’t overuse it, please. No one but Luke knows it…”

“You really don’t trust anyone, do you?” He let go of her hand to stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckles, another light touch that she instinctively leaned into, her eyes closing at the pleasant sensation. “Rey. Someone hurt you… in your past. That’s why you never gave anyone your name.”

“My parents…” She shook her head. “They were awful, alright? Drunken thieves who didn’t have the sense to even be proper bandits. They sold me to a passing tinker, and I worked for her until I met an apprentice witch in Whiterun. He helped me escape, and they brought me to the next gathering, where Master Luke named me. Then he asked me to be his apprentice, and everyone was surprised, but I went with him anyway.” 

She shrugged it. It was a shocking story, she knew, but she had told it so many times, it really didn’t matter anymore. “A few years ago, I saw my mother. I recognized her, but she didn’t even know me. And then when she did, she went to the magistrate and tried to make Luke give me back, but when she didn’t even know my true name…” She remembered the magistrate's pitying look. “What mother doesn’t even know the name of their child?”

“So you never gave it to anyone, because you were afraid that would happen again… You’re an adult witch now. No one can force you to do anything against your will.” He frowned, observing the set of her shoulders and the stubborn set of her jaw. “I promise, I won’t, Rey. If you don’t want to me to call you that, I won’t.”

“I hardly know you…” She breathed in, trying to center herself, but she couldn’t quite do it in time to catch the tears that filled her eyes. Hastily, she wiped at them with her fists, until Ben took her hands in one of his, using the other to gently dab under her eyes with a corner of quilt. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’ve worked so hard to be free, I never wanted anyone to have that power over me, and now all that’s over, and I didn’t even get a choice.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

She sniffed again, and when she felt his arms come up around her, pulling her down to his chest, she was too weak to resist, taking care not to lie on his wounds. It was an unfamiliar feeling, finding comfort in another person’s embrace, and Rey had to admit she liked it. She liked Ben - he even smelled good, somehow, musky with a faint trace of mint soap - and he seemed to genuinely like her, as impossible as she might find such a thing.

“Shhh… It’s okay. Cry as much as you want,” he soothed, rubbing gentle circles over her back and running a careful hand through her hair. “When you’re ready to talk, we’ll talk.”

“Okay,” she agreed, closing her eyes, soothed by his presence and the warmth of his breath on her cheek, so completely incongruous with the overall chill of his body. She mumbled his name, burrowing closer to his skin, her lips brushing lightly against his neck, and his hold tightened.

_ “Ben, _ ” she whispered again, feeling his whole body shudder. “Is there something else you want me to call you?”

“No.”

“Say it,” she demanded suddenly, needing to know it was real, this impossible moment where she actually wanted to hear her true name on another’s lips. “Say my name again.”

“ _ Kira. _ ”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange man had turned to glance down the road, waiting, and soon she heard the same off-beat clop as before, another horse and rider just following over the hill. The woman was just as tall as her companion, cloaked from head to toe in a stiff gray cloak and leather armor, a large broadsword strapped to her back. The horse she led was huge, the kind of animal Rey had only seen at traveling shows and pulling large trolleys in the wide streets of Whiterun and Markarth, a dove gray in color, with speckles of white across its rump and withers.

Everything in the village was practically dripping with holly and mistletoe, real boughs over all the doors and windows and more fake ones of painted wood and cloth over every hearth and mantel.

Finn was outside on a ladder, stringing up shiny silver and gold ornaments along the edge of the roof when Rey reached the smithy. Paige waved excitedly from where she held the ladder and bulbs beneath him, leaving it unstable enough that her father wobbled.

Rey's hand shot out and she whispered words of power, summoning absurdly green vines to wind around the base and Finn's hand, holding them both steady until he regained his balance.

“I don't need another patient, Paige,” she scolded. “I've already got my hands full! And who's going to cook the goose if your dad gets injured?”

Finn shook off the now-decaying vine from his hand with a look of wonder, then gathered himself to peer down at his daughter and the witch.

“I cannot believe you almost let me fall,” he scowled at the girl, before turning to Rey. “Thank you. I know it was mostly self-interest, but I'm still glad I won't be spending the longest night laid up as a glorified candle holder.”

She chuckled, stopping beneath them to eye the decorations admiringly. Paige concentrated on holding the ladder and passing up the string of shining ornaments, but Rey could sense the questions lingering at the front of her thoughts.

“So how's mountain man doing? You ready to kick him out on his way yet?” Finn asked, probably well aware of his daughter's curious gaze. Or just curious himself.

Since she'd arrived a year and a half ago to take over from the retiring old witch who'd served Riverwind for over a century, Finn and his wife had taken it upon themselves to treat her like their own adult daughter, who just happened to predict the weather and have magical powers to keep people from tumbling off of ladders.

Rey laughed, shaking her head. “He's been here three days, Finn. I think I can give him a bit longer to heal.”

“Okay, I just… I mean, you're all alone up there with him…”

“Yeah, and? He's injured.” She rolled her eyes at his derisive scowl. “I'm a witch, remember?”

She wiggled her fingers, and the fresh holly branches on the eaves below him rustled. Paige giggled in wonderment, but Finn just shook his head.

“Wiggling some vines isn't going to help you if he's some sort of spirit or demon in disguise,” he told her sternly. “I hope you have more tricks than that up your sleeve.”

Rey shook out the sleeve of her coat, displaying the wide, deep opening yawning around her arm. “See? Plenty of room. I've got all sorts of tricks you've never seen, believe me. But if you're worried, I think mountain man might be less of a hassle with some proper clothes.”

“Oh, yeah!” He nodded towards the overhang where sounds of metal-on-metal rang out, muffled under at least a foot of snow. “Rose has a package inside. She'll be happy to see you haven't been ravished or murdered.”

“Really, Finn? It's the wrong season for scary stories. Sawan is long-passed.” She shook her head as she trudged towards the smithy, leaving her broom tucked safely behind the evergreen bushes under the Tico's window. “We're supposed to practice hospitality during the Winter Solstice. ‘Turn no one away before the sun is risen?’ Ever heard that?”

“That's for kings and spoiled princes,” he complained jovially. “Paige, did you thank Rey for helping us?”

“Thank you, Rey,” the little girl smiled. “Mom has your mittens and hat, too. Thanks for letting me borrow them.”

“You're welcome,” she assured her, waving goodbye. “Happy Solstice!”

Rose must have recognized her voice, because the sounds of metalworking had stopped by the time she poked her head around the wall, feeling an immediate blast of heat from the forge. She inhaled the scent of hot iron and hay and oil, grinning when the round-hipped young blacksmith yanked off her gloves and hurried over to wrap her in a warm hug.

“Rey! It's good to see you about!” She held her out at arm's length, strong, calloused hands gripping her firmly. “You don't look any different, so I take mountain man is still sleeping on the hearth.”

“Why do you call him mountain man?” She frowned. “He came from the valley path, not Hrothgar.”

Rose released her with a chuckle, gathering a large burlap sack wrapped around with twine and holding it out to her.

“Because he _is_ a mountain, honey,” she patted Rey's arm. “And if you don't climb that while you can, I will be very disappointed in you.”

“Oh, for the love of all things, Rose!” She couldn't hide her blush, though she held the package up defensively between them. “He's my patient. I don't even know anything about him!”

“You've been cooped up there for four days and you haven't talked at all? Don't tell me he's in a coma still.” She smirked as Rey stuttered.

“No, we've talked. He's from Hrothgar,” she scrambled to come up with something to call him, since she wasn't about to give his full name away. “Uhhh… He's a witch, actually. He was fighting a basilisk that's laired up by the road, that's how he got injured.”

“You're jesting!” She shook her head, and Rose leaned closer. “Lots of witches in Hrothgar, I imagine. Has he got a family already? Is that why you're -”

“No, he doesn't! But I've been asked to go to the circle for the Winter Solstice and I haven't made up my mind, and -”

She turned, interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps, to find a panting Poe Dameron skidding to a halt before the open smithy.

“Oh, Rey, thank the spirits! Listen,” he turned to include Rose. “There's a couple of knights that just came into town, looking to have a horse reshod, but they're just… strange… I think they might be demons or spirits or… Or unnatural in some way.”

Rose frowned, turning to gather her gloves, her warm features suddenly solemn as she went about heating up the forge. Poe watched her with a disapproving glower.

“Rose, you can't be planning to help them! They're dangerous -”

“Sorry, Poe. I'm a blacksmith. It's part of the job.” She gestured vaguely at the sign hanging outside, a piece of ironwork depicting a silver-coated horseshoe on a round shield. “Wayland's code.”

“Oh, Wayland be damned! Rose you can't -”

Rey grabbed his wrist, pulling him away before Rose poked him with a hot tong, growling.

“Out, out!” Her eyes fared with anger as Rey dragged him away to the otherwise of the road. “You don't know of what you speak!”

“What in all the nine hells do you think you're doing?” He was still staring across the way, ignoring her as he moved his gaze down the street. “Poe, I know you mean well, but you can't go into a smithy and speak ill of Wayland! I don't come into your tavern and speak ill of Herne!”

“Wayland’s not a real god,” he scoffed. “Just an old tale the blacksmiths use to keep the trade honest.”

“Who are you to say which gods are real?” She scolded angrily.

This sort of dialogue was why she kept to herself, away from easy access, while still close enough to run after emergencies, and entered the tavern as infrequently as possible. People could be such fools about gods and goddesses, what traditions were pure and true and which were invented to scam honest men out of coin.

“We all have our own paths! It’s not your place to say who should be worshipped or honored, or how! Smiths and metal workers have revered Wayland just as long as young men have revered the Horned One.”

“But, Rey, they -”

He stopped as the sound of hooves echoed towards them down the snow-packed road, a soft thumping that was slightly off rhythm, growing more pronounced as its source crested the slight hill at the crossing. What appeared was perhaps the most beautiful horse Rey had ever seen, a brilliant ginger-roan, nearly orange in color and tacked out in fine leather worth more than the entire village.

The rider was just as astonishing, and Rey watched him dismount beside Rose’s sign with her heart thundering in her ears, moving swiftly to put herself between him and Poe. Tall and gaunt, with pale eyes and a shock of ginger hair nearly the same color as his horse, he peered down his nose at the surroundings before tossing his reins up over the saddle lazily.

“See, I told you -” Poe began in a harsh whisper. Rey gripped his wrist in a punishing squeeze, keeping him in place as he tried to go towards the man.

“Be silent,” she hissed. “None of this concerns you.”

The strange man had turned to glance down the road, waiting, and soon she heard the same off-beat clop as before, another horse and rider just following over the hill. The woman was just as tall as her companion, cloaked from head to toe in stiff gray leather armor, a large broadsword strapped to her back. The horse she led was huge, the kind of animal Rey had only seen at traveling shows and pulling large trolleys in the wide streets of Whiterun and Markarth, a dove gray in color, with speckles of white across its rump and withers.

The woman in gray turned as she watched, blue eyes like sapphires sending the chill of a dripping icicle down her spine. The rest of her face was covered in a mask of some kind, hiding her skin, with a thick wool scarf drawn over the mouth and nose, her only other feature of note the blonde tresses cascading over her shoulders.

The man seemed to sense where his compatriot’s eyes were drawn, turning away from the forge to regard Rey with a cool gaze, a wolf studying a rabbit. Rey scoffed. She was certainly not a rabbit, and she was well aware of what they were.

“Well met, Wise One,” he said with a little mocking bow. “Aren’t you a pretty little witchling?”

“What is your business here?” She demanded, crossing her arms and calling out to her power. She had no interest in engaging the creature any longer than necessary, but she would not leave her village until the interlopers had departed.

“As you can see,” he gestured to the gray woman’s horse. “My friend’s horse had thrown a shoe. We have come to call at the smithy.”

Rose was standing just beyond the entrance to her shop, dark eyes calm and fixed on Rey. She gave a little nod, gesturing brusquely with one hand.

“She’s right there, tell her your business.”

“My, my,” he smirked. “This day grows stranger every minute. A woman at the forge. Hmm. Perhaps we should move on.”

His companion shook her head impatiently, drawing her horse forward and showing the problem to Rose, who went into action immediately, but hesitated as she brought out her shoepick.

“Can’t be fixed, the metal’s too warped,” she frowned. “What idiot put sterling silver and gold-dipped shoes on a draft beast?”

“The idiots who are paying you to replace it,” the red-haired man replied imperiously.

His companion rolled her eyes a little, then reached into her pockets to retrieve several solid gold coins. She held them out in her palm, inviting Rose to take them, but the clever woman shook her head, stepping away.

“I haven’t the materials to recreate that. Nor the experience.” She tried to sound apologetic and not wary, as Rey knew she was. “I don’t like to do low quality work.”

“You don’t ‘like to?’” The man repeated. “But you are capable of it, surely.”

She shrugged. “I can heat almost any metal and pour it into a mold. But silver and gold are too soft, I’ve never tried to craft a workable shoe out of them.”

“It’s possible, I assure you,” he insisted. “Surely you need the coin, this is not precisely the Queen’s banquet hall.”

Rose sighed, uncrossing her arms. She had tried in her own, honest way, to convince them to move on, but she was bound by the old magics to provide services to any who had the coin to pay for them

“Fine. But you’ll look it over before I accept a single penny.”

Silently, all four of them, Rey, Poe, and the two riders, watched as Rose bustled about her shop, stoking the fire and preparing the mold, laying out her tools.

“No iron,” the man said suddenly, eyeing the nails in her apron pocket. The smith rolled her eyes, slamming down a handful of nails she’d pried from the previous shoe, and began beating them back into shape gently with her smallest hammer.

When it was finished, she had a functional shoe, crafted of cheap bronze and silver alloy and fitted before being dipped finally in its gold coating. Rey watched her the entire time, though the riders had turned away, their cool gazes studying the clouds overhead and the witch across the road.

When she finished, Rose let the beast’s hoof drop, guiding it in circles to test the fit, frowning and filing multiple times, until it was moving in tandem with the other three. She handed the reins back to the rider with a satisfied grunt, and the woman took them, swinging up into the saddle.

She leaned down to offer Rose payment, but the smith shook her head, waving it away.

“No. That is an apprentice’s job at best. I cannot accept reimbursement for anything less than a job well done.” She insisted, and Rey beamed inwardly with pride at her friend. Despite Poe’s stubborn blindness to their true nature, Rose had caught on quickly, and knew better than to accept any coin from the Fair Folk.

“You must know, we are honor-bound to pay you. Perhaps it’s not your best work, but you did well enough.” The red-haired man glanced at his companion, who shrugged, still not speaking a word.

“Consider it a gift, then in honor of the solstice,” Rose said, a ghost of a smile rising to her lips. The man flinched, grimacing as if struck, and wasted no time mounting his own beast. “Good luck on the road,” Rose called after them. “It can be treacherous this time of year.”

Rey waited until she heard the hoofbeats fading in the distance, and the sense of _other_ slowly faded from the street corner, before releasing Poe to cross over.

“Oh, Rey!” Rose gasped with relief, and Rey gave her a quick hug, not missing the feel of something not-quite as heavy as it should have been dipping into her sleeve. “Did I do alright? Will they come back, do you think?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to set wards, so if anything else comes, I’ll be down here before you know what’s happened.” She pursed her lips as Finn and Paige spilled out of the front door, where Finn had hustled her inside the moment Poe had come running. The little girl held her mother in a fierce hug, crying softly, while Finn rested a comforting hand on them both.

“I’ve got some work to do,” she said as Poe joined them, quickly collecting her things. “It trust you’ll all be safe for tonight? Don’t go out after dark, don’t talk to any strangers, keep a candle in every window. Pass the word around, please, Poe. Don’t skip a single house!”

“Right.” He nodded, the normally friendly expression on his face tempered by fear. “Whatever you say, Rey. We’re lucky you were here.”

“Yes, we were,” Finn agreed, one arm still around his wife while the other rested on his daughter’s head. “I know some of us were a little worried that you were too young for the job, but I can’t imagine old lady Jocasta facing down a pair of demons like that. You certainly came at the right time.”

“A good witch goes where they’re needed,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got to get to work, but if something happens…” She pursed her lips.

It wasn’t as if she was keeping it a secret on purpose, but she didn’t want to volunteer Ben if he wasn’t up to the task. If it had simply been demons or wights or some twisted human fiend, she might have let it drop. But Fair Folk…

“If you see that pair again, or anyone like them, run to the cabin and tell my guest. Even if I’m not there, he… He will know how to reach me. I’ll check on you again early in the morning.”

She ignored the looks of befuddlement and suggestion that passed between her friends, intent on completing the important work of a greater warding and getting home before nightfall. The stolen otherworldly horseshoe would provide an excellent focus, but the work would leave her exhausted and spent. Rey could only steel her will and push through, praying to every god she knew that it would be enough, and she would have enough strength left to contact her master afterwards.

 

She was far beyond the edge of the smithy, on the outskirts of town where the neatly-shoved path lead up to her cabin her power so drained she couldn’t even keep her broom aloft, when the stress of the day finally came down on her. In all her time in Riverwind, it had been mostly childbirth, humans and animals, patching up wounds and casting finding spells for lost livestock in the midst of a storm. Simple tasks that Rey did not mind, they certainly kept her busy and she enjoyed the villagers affection, never spending a feast day alone unless she wished, but… Part of her knew there was more. Master Luke had said it when he chose her, and Granny Ashla had said it again when she assigned her to Riverwind. The Fates had something special planned for her, if she’d only be a bit more patient.

Was this what they meant? Messy, dangerous adventures involving Fair Folk? Was she going to be turned into a horse like Rhiannon, or murdered in an arranged marriage like Branwen? If so… Well, she was a witch. Her future was in no one’s hands but her own, and she’d had quite enough of those bastards for the rest of her life.

She was exhausted when she came in the door, too tired to even make dinner, and she sleepily dropped the bundle of Ben’s clothes on top of his sleeping mat, before flopping down on her bed and losing consciousness. It didn’t even occur to her until much later where Ben could have gone, or if he’d left her after the strange intimacy of the night before scared him away.

Whatever it was… She could face it later. Surely the Gods could allow her that much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rey,” he said firmly, reaching up to catch her wrists and draw them away. “Rey, we have to wait, sweetheart.”
> 
> She growled, but let go, stepping back to lean against the wall, her lust-dark eyes full of temporary frustration. With a deep breath in, she centered herself, closing her eyes and regulating her breathing with a practiced ease.
> 
> “I’m sorry, I…” She caught his expressive smirk and chuckled. “How many days is it until the Winter Solstice?”
> 
> “Ten, I believe.”

Ben stopped in his tracks on his way in from tending the animals, having just managed to get them settled as they’d been ornery and noisy all day. He had intended to try his hand a cooking dinner, something with a cream sauce and a bit salted pork, to go with the loaves of bread he’d placed in the brick oven above the hearth earlier. But the goats had not taken kindly to his attempts to collect the required milk, and the big billy goat, Titus, had rammed straight into his shins more times than he could count. 

By the time he’d had enough and fashioned a halter of rope, winding it around the beast’s head with his magic, and dragged him out to hobble him with more magic rope beside the shed, it was mid-afternoon.

Rey…  _ Kira _ … Had left for the village in the morning after kneeling to tend to his wounds and apply clean bandages with hands that trembled slightly. He’d been so shocked by her sudden, shy goodbye kiss, he hadn’t had time to get to his feet before she gone, with some promise to bring him back proper clothes shouted behind her as the door closed.

Half of his problem with the animals was probably the overpowering presence of her in his mind, old memories from before merging with the new, playing in brilliant detail over and over whenever he was still for more than a moment. His plan to cook had come to him shortly after she left, and then he’d gone out to find the ponies shivering behind the flock of angry goats, milling around at the gate as if preparing to gang up on an invisible enemy just outside. It had taken him hours just get them all soothed, to stop the nannies from biting the ponies and Titus from biting the nannies, and the ponies from trampling the single yearling kid.

He’d had no inkling of what could have gotten them so riled up, but knew it could be any number of things. This close to the solstice, the spirits and Fair Folk were often abroad, and demons and monsters liked to use to growing cover of snow to steal and devour any domestic animals they could get their hands on. Of course, Rey had worked beautifully simply but potent charms into the wooden fencing, and bells and chimes hung all about the lean-to as well as from the corners of her roof, effective wardings to be sure. Unfortunately, the animals could still smell the panic-inducing scent of interlopers, and their unthinking little minds reacted on instinct, trying to flee or hide (or fight, in the case of Titus).

Ben had run his hands over every line of wall and fence, ensuring none of the lines of power were disrupted, and that chore alone had taken him most of the day, but given the animals’ state, it was necessary. 

Now, coming in to see Rey flopped onto her bed fully-clothed without turning down the comforter, her boots still laced to her feet, he caught the barest brush of some dark, familiar power and recoiled as if struck. He recovered quickly enough, rushing to check her pulse and turn her to her back so he could smooth a hand over her hair and look into her face for answers. She was dead asleep, a state of depletion he recognized well, and Ben sighed, sitting down beside her and carefully removing her shoes, cloak and coat.

When those gentle movements didn’t wake her, he risked lifting her into his arms, hissing slightly as the muscles of his right shoulder tensed, but successfully getting her under the covers without waking her. He had fully intended to leave her to rest and go salvage what he could of his dinner plans, but Rey turned slightly and reached for him, making a soft noise of contentment when he laid his hand on her hip.

“ _ Ben _ . Hold me,” she mumbled. “Don’t go away.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He sighed, looking over her bed. It certainly was big enough, and cozy, apparently Rey agreed with Granny Ashla that the best witches cared for themselves first, and that meant good sleep, food and rest, in that order. 

All of which he could certainly help her with.

“ _ Ben…” _

He cursed inwardly. Was he really going to do this? Lay down and take her into his arms and just… lie there? She clearly wanted him now, but she was asleep, surely she’d wake up angry, and trying to explain she’d asked him to be there might not go over so well once she was fully awake and aware.

Her hand tightened over his, and she whimpered, a vulnerable sound that struck solid cracks through his resolve. “Please don’t leave me!”

He cursed, mentally, shaking his head and looking around, as if seeking guidance from some third party. Daisy, the demanding little minx, had curled up on top of his pallet, eyeing him with some promised violence should he try to move her.

Something else lay beside his bed, a large parcel wrapped in burlap and twine, and he remembered Rey’s promise to bring him clothes. Gently, he pried his hand out out from under hers.

“ _ Mmm!” _

“Shhh… I’ll be right back, I promise.”

At least he could prove his intentions were good. 

  
  


When he woke later, he heard her voice, and realised she must have performed a sending as soon as she’d managed to get enough energy to power it. Ben opened one eye, spying the fiery green glow of another face, wreathed in flames and disembodied, floating over the center of Rey’s workspace.

“- she didn’t speak, the female. Just the red-haired man.”

“Did you happen to see her face?”

“No. It was hidden under some kind of metal mask, and she had a scarf pulled up over her nose and her hood pulled down. All I could really see was her eyes and hair.” She shivered in remembrance, and Ben could sympathize. He’d been frightened out of his boots the first time he and his uncle had encountered some Fair Folk, although Luke was wise enough, treating them with measured, but polite disinterest. “I didn’t ask their names, because I didn’t want to have to give them mine.”

“Ah, that’s my clever apprentice. What did Ben say?”

“I haven’t… He wasn’t in when I came home, and I was so exhausted, I just collapsed.” She paused, swallowing, and he noted her eyes start to drift towards the bed, before she course-corrected and turned back to Luke. “I haven’t had a chance to speak to him yet.”

“Will you tell him?”

“I…” Rey frowned, chewing at her thumbnail. “I don’t know why I wouldn’t.”

“If Smiling Fox and the Gray Woman are abroad, it means the other powers will be out as well.” Luke scratched his beard thoughtfully. “I wonder… Has it truly been nearly a thousand years?”

“A thousand years since what, Master?” Rey leaned forward, and though he could see her face, he recognized the stubborn set of her shoulders. She knew Master Luke had more information than he was letting on, she was determined to pry it out him. “Do you mean the Winter?”

“Rey,” Luke spoke softly, with some hesitation. “Why do you think you found the mask?”

“I was looking for the basilisk that Ben said he was fighting -”

“No. I know  _ how _ you found it.” In the flickering fire of the sending, Luke leaned forward intently. “ _ Why _ did you find it? Why  _ you _ ?”

“I don’t know -”

“Yes, you do.” He rolled his eyes. “Think about it, Rey. Bring the mask and your strange guest to the circle. If the Winter isn’t broken by sunrise on the last Long Night, the doors between realms will shift. The Fair Folk will assume our lands, and our kind will be banished beyond the Mists.”

“I’ll think about it, Master…” She sounded tired, suddenly, her shoulders folding inward. “It’s just… I…”

“Spit it out, child.” He encouraged, not unkindly.

“I want to take him into my bed. Ben, I mean. So… I don't know if I'm going to do the maiden's circle. I'm sorry, but I just...” She looked up, and he shivered a little to hear her bold declaration, her fierce demand that the gathering accept her decisions. “I’ve never felt like this before. I can’t… I don’t mean any offense to Jacen or Ishi or anyone, but I’m not like everyone else. It’s too much, it’s too… personal. Please understand.”

He was almost out of bed, hearing the way her voice cracked, on the edge of tears, before he remembered he was supposed to be asleep. He could see the expression in Luke’s eyes soften, his mouth forming a thin line as he smiled reassuringly.

“What if you gave the mask to him? Would that be acceptable to you? There's no one watching, you're alone once you go into the mountain -”

“I don't think he's… He's quite a bit older.” Ben could see the way the back of her neck flushed, and wished he hadn't tried so hard to come across as someone he wasn't. If she only knew the truth…

“Surely there's no harm in asking him,” Luke said with a wink. “You may be surprised. The Ben I remember was less than accomplished at charming people into bedding him.”

He scowled. As if Luke were one to talk. He didn't know everything about his uncle, but from the way Mistress Jade and his mother joked, awkwardness seemed to run in their family.

“I… I suppose I'll find out, one way or another.” She laughed nervously, looking everywhere but up at her master. “Do you think they'd let him, if… If he's acceptable?”

“I’ll speak with Lady Luminara,” he promised. “Don’t worry so much. You may not realise it, but you have admirers among the higher circles. I think they’ll agree to your request.  _ If _ he’s acceptable to the spirits.”

“You… You think?” Rey repeated tentatively. “What admirers?”

“Ashla, for one. And she probably counts as two. Besides, it’s often decided like that, beforehand. All of the major festivals are, we just don’t talk about it.”

“Oh.” Rey’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Okay, alright.”

“Take care, Rey. Those riders aren’t the only danger about. Many powers would prefer if the Long Night never ended, if the Winter Knight was never released from his curse.” His visage flickered momentarily, and Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t overtax yourself. I’ll see you at Midwinter, unless you have any other odd encounters.”

“Thank you, Master. I look forward to it.”

The fires died, the light flickering back to the mundane glow of the five candles set around her workspace, and Rey dropped her head onto her arms with a sigh.

“Don’t fall asleep there, your soul will journey to the dreamworld and you’ll never escape,” Ben said after a long moment of watching her. “Close the circle before you take another nap.”

“Right.” She went about it quickly, offering up small incantations of gratitude to small gods of nature and the higher powers above. Ben’s mouth twitched as he recognized her chosen deities, surprised to hear Rey venerating the horse-goddess Epona as a sun deity.

“You pray to Epona,” he said quietly. “I’ve never heard her called the mother of the sun before.”

“My gods are none of your business,” she snapped defensively, then paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“No, you’re right. Your path is own. I was merely curious.”

Rey stood from her sigil-etched table, wiping it clean with a freshly-laundered cloth and rubbing the surface with cedar oil, before she pulled closed the curtain and turned to face him.

“How much of that did you hear?” She asked softly, as if she feared his answer.

For a moment, he considered a lie, but Rey’s eyes held him hostage, honest and pleading and heartbreakingly open. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at his feet nervously.

“That stuff I said before… About having a lot of experience?”

“Yeah?” She snorted. “Don’t worry, I remember.”

“Yeah, well… Um. I was mostly… exaggerating.”

“I assume by ‘mostly’ you mean something close to a hundred and ten percent?” She tilted her head, stepping closer to where he sat on the edge of the bed. Before he could stop himself, he had looked up, caught again by Rey’s intense gaze and too shocked at her nearness to do anything about it. “I’m guessing that's a ‘yes’.” Rey snorted. “You're about the only man I've ever known to put more clothes  _ on _ before hopping into bed with a woman.”

“Would you rather I hadn't?” He swallowed, and she leaned forward, stepping in between his legs and lacing a hand gently through his hair. Ben could hardly breathe under that assault, Rey's hand so familiar, her sweet lips so close he could feel the heat of her soft exhale.

“Maybe.” She smiled into his eyes with a hint of mischief. “But I appreciate the thought. Although I feel I should ask what you thought you were doing to begin with?”

“You asked…” He sighed. Once again, he'd managed to blunder in the worst possible way without any evidence to prove his intentions were pure. “I knew no matter what I did, it'd be the wrong choice. But you begged me not to leave you, so…”

“So you didn't.” Her eyes flared with pleasure and she remained close as he stared up at her, his pulse racing, sending heat down, down,  _ down _ . He breathed out with a slightly pathetic whimper.

“Rey…”

“No.” She bent down, finally pressing a delicate, teasing kiss to his lips. “You know my name. Say it.”

_ “Kira… _ ” Rey’s kiss was heated and firm this time, and he couldn’t halt the surge of raw,  _ ancient _ need that flowed through him, surging up to bury his hands in her hair, taking her lip between his teeth and kissing her thoughtlessly, fervently, completely overwhelmed. “Oh, gods,  _ Kira _ … Please, please let me… We’ll do it right this time, I swear…”

She moaned into his mouth, her breath coming in gasps between his consuming kisses, one of her hands sliding beneath the collar of his shirt to grip his shoulder while the other combed through his hair and gripped it firmly. Her mouth traced his jaw, soft, heated tastes of his skin, moving down to nip at his earlobe with sharp little teeth as her hand fisted in his hair, pulling his head back for her to ravage his throat.

His hands trembled as they roamed over her, finding the hem of her shirt and then her undershirt, sliding up to drag his fingertips slowly over the smooth skin of her back. Rey’s hands worked quickly at the lacings of his shirt, and he realised if he didn’t put a halt to it, they would both be useless for the solstice joining.

“Rey,” he said firmly, reaching up to catch her wrists and draw them away. “Rey, we have to  _ wait _ , sweetheart.”

She growled, but let go, stepping back to lean against the wall, her lust-dark eyes full of temporary frustration. With a deep breath in, she centered herself, closing her eyes and regulating her breathing with a practiced ease.

“I’m sorry, I…” She caught his expressive smirk and chuckled. “How many days is it until the Winter Solstice?”

“Ten, I believe.”

“Alright. Ten days. We can do that, right?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to shake off the unpleasant feeling that she was missing something, she went to continue her tasks when she heard a familiar voice calling for her.
> 
> “Rey! Rey!” Rose came painting down the road, arms waving frantically. She stopped as soon as she saw she had gotten the attention she was after, breathing heavily while also giggling in the center of the crossroad.

Of course, the life of a witch was predominantly servitude, and the people of Riverwind seemed determined to make up for her two days of Midwinter absence before Rey even left. They had been woken at the crack of dawn (well, Rey had, Ben had already had the kettle on, unable to sleep after yet another flashback dream) by a young woman who’d had a somewhat unexpected and irresponsible night, and Ben had wisely slipped out to feed the animals while Rey dealt with that delicate matter.

While he was outside, Poe Dameron and the Jarl’s daughter, Isolde, had come by on horseback with the bountiful success of their pre-feast hunting, and offered him two of the lovely geese hanging from Poe’s saddle in exchange for treating the girl’s sprained wrist. It was a larger gift than normally called for, witches did not deal in payment, but Lady Isolde insisted her father Vignar wanted to ensure the new witch was treated with the utmost hospitality.

“You never know when you might need services. Best to keep the witches on your side,” she said with a smile. “Though I didn’t know Miss Rey had taken in a lover.”

“Ah… Actually, I’m also sort of a patient,” he muttered, gesturing to the sutures on his cheek, traveling down to the bandage beneath his collar. “But I’m a witch, too, and we make the worst patients. I’m sure Rey’d prefer if I stayed inside and ate soup for another week, but idle hands drive me mad.”

“Aye, I feel that, mister witch. Could I perhaps have the pleasure of your name?” The girl was well-intentioned, he was sure, but as he opened his mouth, he heard the door to the cottage open and somehow knew Rey was behind him, listening.

“I’ve had a lot of names,” he smiled teasingly. The Jarl’s daughter raised an eyebrow patiently. “However, if you must… I suppose you could call me a Skywalker.”

“Skywalker? As in the famous Luke Skywalker? You’re not him, though, he came to my father’s long house, once. He’s a head shorter and keeps a rough beard.” She peered down at him curiously. “Are you his son?”

“Nephew,” he said honestly. “But we’re not particularly close.”

“Ah, I see. So it’s just Master Skywalker, then? No first name?”

"Ehhhh..."   
  


“Surely you know how we are about names, my lady?" Rey interrupted from behind them. She waved her unfortunate early visitor off with a packet of herbs and strict instructions, then turned to asses their visitors.  

Her eyes dropped to where the jarl’s daughter sat side-saddle, her injured ankle propped up against Ben’s chest while he applied the bandage. He’d said he was a witch, and he knew about herbcraft and had tended the goats with no problems, but she hadn’t seen him do any actual healing tasks. His hands were quick and deft, and he finished without issue, somehow keeping the horse standing stock still while he administered to its rider.

“Ah, Miss Rey. Of course, how rude of me.” She glanced down at Ben. “My apologies, Master Skywalker. I did not mean to pry.”

She smiled as he patted her leg gently, indicating he was finished with the wrappings, and gingerly shifted to a more stable position on her horse. Rey’s eyebrows quirked at that, impressed by Ben’s easy command of the beast as he laid a hand on its neck and murmured his thanks. The animal shook its head, now free of the witch’s command, and its rider chuckled.

“Oh, poor Swift, he’s a good boy, really, just a bit flighty. I’m sure he’ll calm in a few years.” She shook her head ruefully, patting the horse’s chocolate brown neck. “At least I got in a good training workout.”

"I must reiterate my agreement with your father," Poe said, eyeing the horse. "You don't train a stallion for riding. Geld him and he'll make you a much smoother mount."

It was a small beast, Rey could clearly see the powerful haunches of a running and jumping champion, and it was clear Isolde had intended to make use of those skills, but hadn’t quite factored in her young horse’s youth and skittishness when it came to hunting. Ben frowned, running a gentle hand down the stallion's neck and raising a brow as the horse tossed its head.

"I've trained my share of horses, my lady. If you'd like, I could spend a few weeks working with him in the spring," he glanced over at Poe Dameron's bark of laughter curiously. "But it is dangerous to take an animal like this out in the snow, especially so close to a solstice. There's any number of monsters and strange folk about."

"See, what did I tell you?" Poe chided.

“Well, I thank you both for your assistance and counsel, Wise Ones. Please know, you are always welcome in the Greymane's keep.” The young woman nodded to them both before turning to Poe with a dazzling smile. “Shall we take the rest of our haul on to the village?”

“Uhhh… yeah, right.” Poe was giving Ben a strange, almost hostile look, and it set Rey’s jaw on edge.

The tavern-keeper had teased and flirted with her since she arrived, sometimes a bit over the line, but she had never really feared it would go any further. He knew what she was, knew what would happen if he were to try and manhandle her in some way, but his overbearing lust over every single woman around set her on the defense around him. 

“Finn’ll be happy to see those geese,” she said, coming to stand next to Ben with her arms crossed. "Are you having the Long Night vigil at the keep again, Isolde?"

"Are you planning on bringing your handsome foundling?" The blonde woman asked with a friendly smile.

"He's just some guy we found bleeding on the roadside," Poe grumbled. "Why is everyone so damn curious about a strange beggar without a coat?"

Almost absently, Ben's arm slipped around her waist, and Rey nearly jumped away, before noting the widened eyes of both their visitors. She leaned back slightly into his hold, casting a subtle smirk in Poe's direction.

“He's a bit more than that, obviously." She glanced at Isolde, who shrugged, refusing to take responsibility for the tavern-keeper's behavior. "As Master Skywalker told you, he is a witch."

"Oh, right. I suppose that does explain the shabby clothes and the charming personality." Poe rolled his eyes. "Gotta maintain that aura of mystery. I guess I just assumed you weren't that kind of witch, Rey."

“Alright, that's enough,” Isolde snapped decisively, urging her horse forward with a practiced ease, despite her injury. “Come on, Dameron. I’ve got to be back to the keep by midday.”

“Goodbye, Poe," Rey called with a cheer she did not feel. "Have a happy solstice!”

She waved, keeping up a friendly smile until they were out of the way, and then she exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding, slumping her shoulders slightly. Ben’s arm tightened around her waist, drawing her to him for comfort, and she tilted her face up for a kiss without a second thought. This was so easy, they fit together like a perfect puzzle, and she couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to have a partner, another witch to help with the needs of the livestock while Rey ministered to the humans. And annoy the piss out of Poe Dameron. 

“You don’t like them,” Ben murmured into her hair. Rey shrugged.

“Lady Isolde is fine. She’s got a penchant for reckless riding, and I’m hoping she grows out of it before she breaks her neck, but otherwise she’s a lovely person, and so's her family.” She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Poe is… A good person, underneath, but… he’s just so desperate, it’s awkward and uncomfortable for everyone. I really wish he’d find a good woman - or a good man - to settle him down.”

“Oh, I see.” Ben rolled his eyes and gave the departing horses a rueful look. “He thinks ‘no’ means ‘try again tomorrow.’”

“Precisely.”

“Well, there’s no cure for that, but some day it’s going to get him into a lot of trouble. Perhaps he’ll learn his lesson then.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I was going to feed the hooved beasts. I guess I'll tackle those birds they brought, too.”

“Okay. I’ve got to go ‘round the village and check my wards from yesterday. Can you do the same around the cabin?”

“I did yesterday, but I don’t mind double-checking when there’s Fair Folk abroad.”

“Ah, you heard that part, did you?” Rey tilted her head to look up at him, and he met her gaze with a solemn nod. “Bastards. I wish I knew what they were really after.”

“Hmm. From what you said to Luke, it sounds like you handled them well. You were right not to give them your name -”

Rey glanced away, trying to think of a way to delicately explained what  _ else _ she had done, what Rose had done with her knowledge.

“Rey. Tell me you didn’t give them your name,” Ben sounded cross, and he gripped her shoulders in both hands, stepping back slightly so his eyes were closer to hers. Startled, she shook her head no. “Then what did you do? Clearly there’s something more -”

“Rose took the damaged shoe and replaced it with another one dipped in gold,” she explained quickly. “She said it was a gift and refused to accept any payment from them. And then I took the Fae horseshoe and buried it at the crossroads as a warding.”

She almost didn’t dare look at him, but his face was so close to hers, she simply couldn’t resist. There was a softer expression in his eyes than she’d expected, and he didn’t appear angry any more, just thoughtful.

“My clever little witch,” he drew her into a fierce hug. “That was brave and brilliant of you both. I can’t wait to meet this blacksmith who knows so much about Fair Folk.”

“Rose is pretty special,” she chuckled as he released her. “I’ve got some Solstice candles to take down from the drying racks later. I’m going to take them to the village tomorrow if you’d like to help. Finn is an excellent cook, and they always invite me to stay for dinner. Plus, you can offer him thanks for saving you from lumbering around in a pile of blankets all day. He’s the one who tailored your clothes.”

“Ah. I think…” He paused, looking away, up over the hill that led to Hrothgar, and a frown interrupted his slight smile.

“Ben?” She whispered.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I just… I thought I sensed something Other, but it’s gone now. Probably just residual from the Fair Folk yesterday.” They shared a look, neither quite believing it, and he jerked his head towards the village. “Still, I’m glad you’re going to double check your workings. I’ll do the same here. There is no reason not to be vigilant.”

Rey nodded, her thoughts a blur of fear and anxiety, for the village, for Ben, for the entire land of Solstice if the winter ritual wasn’t completed… She thought of the mask of the Winter Knight, still stored in its burlap wrap inside her sigil-warded box of magical items.

Master Luke was right, of course, she thought as she directed her broom up and over the treetops. Her discovery of the mask was no coincidence, some invisible hand of fate or magic had brought it to her. More snow had fallen overnight, the slanted tops of the houses and shops dusted in fine white powder, making it difficult to find her landmarks, but the pulse of power guided her.

From the road down the mountain, she traced her markings and woven charms from tree to tree, extending out past the fields where old Chirrut and Baze watched over their sleepy sheep, north to Rose’s smithy and the crossroads nearby, where she landed to walk over the ground above the horseshoe she had carefully buried deep.

Some sense of Other reached her, and she wheeled abruptly, knowing it wasn’t simply coming from the trace artifact in the ground.

The woman stood just beyond the road, her huge mount pawing away the snow to munch at bits of weeds hidden in the scrub brush. 

“What do you want?” Rey demanded, facing the woman with her shoulders squared. She did not sense her wily companion anywhere, which was something of a relief, but she was not foolish enough to let her guard down. He could appear at any time, and she doubted he was far away, the two seemed to belong as a pair.

With quick movements, she removed her scarf and hood, and Rey swallowed a gasp at the burnished golden mask that was revealed. She had thought it was some dark metal, but now free of the shadowy hood, she saw that it was gold, with glittering diamonds along the edges and precious emeralds and yellow-orange citrine outlining the eyes. The gems were placed in a sunburst pattern, and a touch of platinum on the finely-shaped lips completed the design.

Rey didn’t need anyone to tell her, she recognized it just as clearly as she had the mask of Winter. This was nothing other than its counterpoint, the face of the Summer Maiden, the goddess of light and life and fecundity.

What was it doing in the possession of the Fair Folk?

As before, the Gray Woman did not speak. She simply watched Rey, her deep blue eyes narrowed as she looked over the young witch thoroughly.

“If you’ve no purpose to be here, I kindly request that you leave at once. You’re not welcome.” She drew herself up, meeting that cold gaze, and was surprised hear the woman’s soft bark of laughter.

She gave Rey a solemn nod, then turned and swung up on her horse, gathering the reins and yanking it around. With a last, cool glance, the Gray Woman kneed her mount viciously, and it leapt up directly at Rey, causing her to cry out and drop to her knees in the brush as the massive animal sailed gracefully over her head. It landed beyond her wards, on the road to Hrothgar, and she scowled as she watched horse and rider gallop away, straightening her clothes and shaking leaves and burrs out of her hair.

“Crazy fiend,” she cursed, returning to her broom where it rested against a tree closer to the road. Trying to shake off the unpleasant feeling that she was missing something, she went to continue her tasks when she heard a familiar voice calling for her.

“Rey!  _ Rey! _ ” Rose came painting down the road, arms waving frantically. She stopped as soon as she saw she had gotten the attention she was after, breathing heavily while also giggling in the center of the crossroad.

“What’s wrong? Did Finn fall off the ladder again, or something?” She tried to joke as she walked over to her friend, but her tone seemed weak, even to her, and Rose cocked her head in a concerned expression.

“No, nothing like that… I just thought I felt..." She cocked her head, studying Rey carefully. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I _did_ sense something.”

"It was just... I saw the woman from yesterday, but she's obviously gone now." Rey shrugged it off, trying to force herself to be calm, but Rose’s thoughtful scowl indicated the smith was having none of it. 

“Honestly, Rey! Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea?" She grabbed the witch's broom from the ground, shaking it free of snow. "I may not be a witch, but you’d be surprised what I’ve seen. That woman is hanging around for a reason."

Rey nodded, swallowing, and followed the blacksmith into her house, stealing one more quick look at the road leading up the mountain. There was no sign of horse or rider, no sound of hoofbeats or feel of Other. She chewed her lip, letting Rose lean her broom against the porch wall and following her inside the cozy house.

"Now, sit down, and tell me what's going on," she ordered. "All of it."

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So then you know the rest of it - Pwyll was mortal, he married Rhiannon, and the witches are their offspring, a mix of Fair Folk and mortal, charged with keeping the old traditions and shepherding the idiot mortals so they don’t ruin things like the Fae did.”
> 
> “Except we failed.” She sat up, giving him a speculative look. “Or should I say, you failed? It was you, wasn’t it? You’re Kylo Ren, the Winter Knight. The one who killed Summer in exchange for immortality.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my plan to finish this by the 21st got a wrench thrown in it by unforeseen complications with a medication that I really need and was out of for three days :( 
> 
> Thankfully it's all sorted out now, but withdrawals are a bitch and it took up some precious recovery time that I did not have to spare... I'm still gonna try, but we'll see.

She sat at the table as Rose prepared tea, looking around at the hand-stitched curtains and framed charcoal sketches of the smithy and Chirrut’s fields. The blacksmith had been quiet while Rey spilled out her story, and she couldn't deny it was a relief to have someone to confide in, even if Rose wasn't exactly a witch. When she'd finished spilling her guts, Rose had said simply that she was going to make tea, and let her thoughts steep with it.

“Paige is turning into a remarkable artist,” Rey said, eyeing the detailed drawings on the wall. For a ten-year-old, the girl had an eye for capturing the quiet efficiency of everyday scenes. “I don’t even know many adults with that kind of talent.”

Her mother beamed as she set out tea things on the table, filling Rey’s cup before she sat down across from her.

“She’s very talented,” Rose agreed, claiming a scone from the tray of little goodies. “People always ask if I’m disappointed she won’t be taking over the forge one day,” she said, rolling her eyes. “As if the only purpose in having a child is to provide a perfect replacement of yourself.”

“What does Finn think?”

“We’ve been taking about sending her to Hrothgar, to the Bardic College. Only if she wants to, of course, but he’s certain she could find work with one of the jarls.”

“I’ll bet.” Rey sipped her tea, surprised to taste cinnamon and cardamom and other wintery spices. “This is lovely, by the way. What do you put in it? I can taste cinnamon -”

“Oh, it’s a blend I make myself, mixed with strong black tea and cream. Cinnamon, cardamom, clove, a bit of white pepper…” She smiled under Rey’s eager interest. “I’ll make up a jar for your Solstice gift.”

“That’s very kind, but…”

“Yes, I know. You’re going to Hrothgar.” The blacksmith looked up, her dark eyes sparking with mischief. “With mountain man.”

“You can call him Master Skywalker. That’s what he told Poe.”

“Oh, so he has a name now!” She grinned. “So you're going to participate in the circle then?”

“Ahh… We’ll see,” she hedged, trying to avoid more personal conversations, though she could tell Rose had seen right through her. “Where are Finn and Paige, anyway?”

“Sledding,” Rose smirked. “But if we’re going to get down to it, I think you should go, and I think you know why. Did the Gray Woman speak to you?"

“No,” Rey shook her head. “She laughed when I told her she wasn’t welcome here, and then she left.”

She stared down into her teacup, wondering how much Rose believed of the story, or guessed about the parts she'd left out. The blacksmith was clever, she had recognized the Fair Folk immediately and stolen a horseshoe from under their noses. Rey hadn't told her about Ben giving her his true name, or how he had guessed hers. But she had told her about finding the mask of Winter, and how her Master had suggested she handle the strange situation. And how she was attracted to Ben, and he to her, and that she'd confessed her virginal state to him and gotten a similar confession from him.

Master Luke was wise, and she knew he had her best interest in mind, but she wasn’t sure he actually _knew_ what her best interests were. Rose was actually her friend, who may be wise in the way of blacksmiths everywhere, but most importantly was a married woman with a husband and daughter she adored.

"Rey. Do you  _want_ to take... the young Master Skywalker to Hrothgar and do the ritual with him? Because I've got to say..." she leaned in, making sure to catch Rey's eyes. "You look like you're trying to talk yourself out of it, and I'm not entirely sure why."

 

"I just... I know it's the natural course of things, but... My whole life it's been just me. I have my craft, and my responsibilities, but at night when I'm home, I don't have to answer to anyone but me and... Now, it's like there's something inside of me, something that's always been there, but now is awake. And I'm afraid..." Rey trailed off and peered down into her teacup, relieved to have it all out, but uncertain now if it had been wise to share with anyone.

“Rey,” the other woman smiled warmly, reaching out to squeeze her fingers. “I think you have all the pieces of this puzzle. You just need to put them together in the right order. If all you have is you, you've got to trust yourself.”

She blinked, opening her mouth to respond when the front door burst open, bringing a slew of cold air and a heavily-bundled Paige, who bounded into the room and demanded a hug from Rey.

“I knew you were here, we saw your broom outside!” She was too old to jump up and down, but she practically radiated excitement, and Rey wondered, not for the first time, if Rose and Finn’s daughter might make a fine witch some day. She certainly had keen powers of observation.

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I’ve got to get back to my guest -”

“OH! Right, yeah!” Paige grinned. “Mom and dad have a bet going on when you’re gonna -”

“Ah, Paige,” Finn interrupted quickly. “Why don’t you go take your coat and boots off, and then we can all sit and have tea with Miss Rey?”

The girl bounded back to towards the front door, and Rey looked from Finn to Rose with an eyebrow raised, her arms crossed over her chest sternly.

“You have a bet? About when I’m gonna…” She smirked, focusing on Finn. “What was it? Oh, ‘climb that mountain?’”

His skin was too dark to betray a blush, but his eyes darted everywhere but Rey, and Rose let a soft snicker escape from the hand she held over her mouth.

“Well, I mean, he’s not a bad-looking guy, and you said he’s a witch, so…”

“We’re waiting for the Solstice,” she deadpanned, waiting.

Finn nodded absently, reaching for a scone, then stopped and turned back to face her again, his expression mildly confused.

“You’re _what_ ? Isn’t the Winter Solstice a… I mean, I don’t know, you witches do your own things, but I heard it was a…” he lowered his voice, “...a _sex_ ritual…”

“Yes, it is.”

Rey was surprised his eyes didn’t fall out of his head, as Rose laughed so hard she was gulping in air and leaning on her chair for support by the time Paige rejoined them.

“What’s funny?” The little girl demanded.

“It’s only funny if you’re a grown up, I’m afraid,” Rey apologized in all sincerity. “It wouldn’t make much sense to you now.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a beat, peering up at the witch, and then she seemed to move on to something else. “Do you see Fair Folk a lot? Like the ones who came to the forge yesterday?”

Rey sat with them a while longer, telling the best stories she knew about the world beyond the Mists, where the gods and spirits lived. Her favorite had always been Rhiannon, the Fae Queen who had married a human man, but she also told them of Rhiannon’s son Pryderi, and the other men of his court.

“What about the Winter Knight?”

“Paige, you’ve heard that story a million times,” Finn complained. “Rey is a busy woman -”

“But I want to hear it from _Rey_! She knows the true stories, not the made up ones with happy endings like you guys tell,” Paige begged. “Please, Rey?”

“Alright. But after that, I have to go.”

 

The flight from the smithy to her cabin was little more than five minutes, so Rey chose to walk, wanting to be alone with her thoughts for a short while.

 _You have all the pieces_ , Rose had told her.

 _Why did you find the mask? Why_ you? Master Luke had asked astutely.

It was a good question. A very good question. She was certain Ben was involved, and she was beginning to have some very disturbing thoughts about such involvement.

He was hundreds of years old, but seemed a bit out of practice as a witch. And he wasn’t in a rush to get back to his people, if he even had any. He’d said he was from Hrothgar, but he hadn’t come on a broom or a horse, and it was an awfully long way to walk, with nothing much along the road but more little hamlets, unless you made the three-day journey all the way down to valley.

Why had he given her his _name_? He hadn’t come up with another until Poe and Isolde pressed him, and even then it seemed like a sort of split-second decision.

And somehow, in his dreams he had discovered her _name_. How? Why? It was Master Luke who had given her the name. Had he… known something about her? Something he chose not to reveal, that she needed to discover for herself? Something that had always been there, awakened by his presence?

Rey shook her head. It was growing dark now, the days still shortening until the Long Night, and all she wanted was to settle in beside the fire, share a simple meal of bread and cheese with Ben, and go to sleep with his cool skin touching hers.

She stopped walking. Suddenly her head spun, and she closed her eyes briefly as her thoughts aligned themselves into something she could interpret.

Ben was always so cold, his skin cool to the touch despite his warm breath, and yet the snow and wind didn’t seem to bother him much. He had teased her gently when she found the mask, but she had never given him a straight answer, even though he seemed to know she had it…

“Oh, Rey. You absolute idiot!”

She yanked her broom off her back, even though she could see the lighted candles in the cottage windows ahead. It had started snowing again as the gray light of day faded, but she paid it no mind as she stormed into her home, tossing broom and cloak aside to face the man who stood before her.

Ben had the kettle in one hand, filling the teapot already prepared with a blend of lavender and rose hips by the smell, and he looked up at her with a bright, delighted smile.

To her utter annoyance, all of her anger faded before she could even open her mouth. She couldn’t help herself, his joy was contagious, and the fact that it came as a response to her, to seeing her walk in the door… Rey had never had anyone to welcome her home. It just wasn’t something she ever expected to have, and so she’d never really thought of how it would feel to…

To share her home. To have a person there, who lived with her, who made tea and baked bread and helped with the animals, and greeted her with genuine warmth when after she’d been away all day. Was that what she'd been so afraid of? Someone to come home to? 

“Everything alright?” He asked gently as she kicked off her boots and sat at the table.

Rey propped her chin on her hands and regarded him with a mild expression, finding his eyes and holding them so he could see the affection reflected there.

“Oh, I suppose. I just figured out my new boyfriend is the Winter Knight, my old master knows and didn’t tell me, and the cursed Fair Folk are waiting for me to take the place of the Maiden, or trying to stop it, I'm not sure, but…” She waved a hand dismissively. “You know, other than that, everything’s wonderful. Is that a quiche I see over there above the hearth? It smells wonderful. The whole house smells wonderful, actually, especially you.”

He was a bit slow on the uptake, for which she really couldn’t blame him, even if he was a thousand-year-old witch with a dark curse and a very meddlesome uncle.

“ _I_ smell good?” He managed finally, in a choked voice.

“Yes,” Rey nodded, reaching an arm out to him. “Come closer. I need to touch you. _Ben_.”

Hesitantly, he put the kettle back on the hearth and slid onto the kitchen bench beside her, eyes moving over her rapidly as if he were afraid to make any unauthorized movement, lest she kick him out into the cold snow. Which most likely wouldn’t hurt anything other than his ego.

Rey flopped her head onto his shoulder and wriggled in until he lifted his arm and draped it gently around her. The she sighed, closing her eyes and breathing him in, exhausted mentally and physically.

“Why does the Gray Woman have the mask of Summer?” She asked after a long moment.

“The masks came from the Fae originally. Our world was theirs first, but they took poor care of it. Their lives are too long compared to everything else, all the plants and animals and such, they simply didn’t have the… impetus… to manage it all. The gods had Wayland himself craft the masks of Winter and Summer. Originally, they were supposed to indicate a duality of leadership, with the Unseelie Court taking over during the fall and winter months, and the Seelie during the spring and summer, but…”

Rey waved a hand irritably. “Yes, yes, I know. The Fair Folk engaged in further hostilities regarding the masks, no one could agree on terms, and then the gods gave them one final chance, tying the seasons themselves to the ritual, but even that failed. The Fae Grawal demanded Pwyll give him his bride on their wedding night, and Rhiannon had to fix it afterwards and trick Grawal into crawling into an enchanted bag. I just told that story again for Paige, don't make me repeat it again.”

“Oh, you were paying attention to Lady Luminara. It is still Luminara, isn’t it?” At her nod, he continued. "So then you know the rest of it - Pwyll was mortal, he married Rhiannon, and the witches are their offspring, a mix of Fair Folk and mortal, charged with keeping the old traditions and shepherding the idiot mortals so they don’t ruin things like the Fae did.”

“Except we failed.” She sat up, giving him a speculative look. “Or should I say, _you_ failed? It was you, wasn’t it? You’re Kylo Ren, the Winter Knight. The one who killed Summer in exchange for immortality.”

“That’s not what happened! I - We were tricked by a Fae masquerading as an old witch. He lied to us both, I thought she was there to kill _me_!” His face grew dark with the memory. “He knew she wasn’t untouched, but he lied and told her the ritual would work anyway. He had one of his servants - the red-haired man, Smiling Fox - fill her pockets with components for the darkest blood magic. By the time we realised what had happened… It was too late. We struck each other, and we were both dying…”

He dropped his head into his hands, and Rey waited, reaching out after a moment to slide soothing fingers through his hair and rub his shaking shoulders. 

“She used her life energy to heal me, but it came with a curse. I have to fix what we broke, to complete the ritual, and I’ve searched…” He sat up suddenly, turning to face her with eyes rimmed red, and Rey inhaled sharply as his cool fingers caressed her face. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve searched for you, Rey? You’re my last hope…” 

Rey leaned into his hand, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to soothe herself before her voice shook all over the place and he figured out how frightened she was.

“Did you really get injured by basilisks? You’re over a thousand years old!”

“I got… distracted.” Rey opened her eyes to stare in disbelief, and he sighed. “I could sense you. So close. I’d been following that smirking bastard for miles, and then the trail went cold and got covered over by the lizards, so I thought I may as well dispatch them and…” 

“I distracted you.” 

“Something like that.” He blinked slowly, his eyes darting down to her lips before sliding back up, and Rey held her breath, waiting to see if he would gather the nerve to kiss her. “You glow like the sun. It’s no wonder the Gray Woman found you.” 

“But _why_? Why me, why… Why does she have the mask?”

“Do you not know who she is, Rey?” She shook her head slightly, and he smiled, reaching out to caress her face with the lightest of touches. “Why don’t you guess? Answer correctly, and I’ll give you a surprise.”

“Hmmm…” She smirked, thinking it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, but she was certainly willing to earn it. “She’s a Fair Folk… With a gray horse, and blonde hair… Oh! _Oh!”_

Ben nodded encouragingly.

“She’s gray because of the sky. Because it’s been cloudy so long, no one remembers who she used to be. Now, she’s the goddess of horses, but… She used to be the daughter of the sun.”

“Good girl,” he praised, leaning forward to claim her with a cool but fervent caress of lips and tongue. Ben’s kiss was tortuously slow, teasing her, pulling away when she tried to chase his tongue with hers, his hands carding through her hair to hold her steady while he tasted her at his leisure. She whined in protest, but loved every minute. So much so that she forgot, until much later, the most important question that she had let go unanswered.

He was fast asleep when she turned over in his arms, smoothing his hair from his face and kissing him until his eyes opened in surprise. 

“Rey? What are you -”

“What was her name? The woman who deceived you? Who cursed you to finish the ritual and Awaken the sun?” She rolled over him, her forehead pressed to his as she held onto him with all her strength. “Tell me, _Ben._ ”

“You know, sweetheart. Surely, you know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

He sighed, blinking slowly, and then every muscle in his body seemed to give in at once, and his forehead slumped against hers, his breath uneven.

“Kira. She was called Kira, and…” He gazed pleadingly into her eyes, begging for some kind of forgiveness, for understanding. “Her name, her _true name_ , was Ray. Like the arms of the sun.”

“My name is spelled with an ‘e’.”

“Who spelled it?”

“My mother -” She paused, cocking her head, and then a bubble of laughter escaped her, Ben eyeing her as if he was watching her mind unravel right there before him. “She couldn’t spell. She could barely read.”

“I still like it that way. With an ‘e.’ It's unique. It suits you.”

Still giggling, she rested her head on his shoulder and he held her lightly, ready to let go the second she moved as if she might want to get up. Like he didn’t really deserve to touch her, much less hold her, or sleep in her bed.

“I’m not going to kick you out, Ben. At least, not until we fix your... _our?_... mistake.” She sat back, watching his eyes as he processed her words.

“Oh.” He paused. “What about after?” 

“After?” 

“Yeah, I mean… Are we just gonna…” he waved a hand expressively, “you know, go our separate ways once the ritual is over?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it depends.” 

“It depends? On what?” 

“This is my home. I’m needed here.” She shrugged. “So you can come back with me, or… Do whatever you want, I guess.”

“Rey… _Kira_ … Do you want me to stay with you? After all the things you’ve learned?”

“Why not? Let the past die.” She leaned down again, pressing her forehead to his. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” 

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TFW I realize Kylo is Elsa... o.0


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He dismissed the powers that aided him with heartfelt gratitude and no small amount of awe. As a young witch, Kylo Ren had pursued the gods and stories that tended to be popular among young men - gods of war and battle, strength and wine and sex. He’d moved on from Thor and Herne eventually, but the gods he chose as an adult still reflected some of his inner self-doubt and cynicism, Odin and his gift of hard-won knowledge, capricious Mercury and the multiple goddesses of Death.
> 
> He’d lived over an entire millennia, and never once prayed to the Light, given thanks or reverence to the entities who bestowed life and fertility and gifted the most basic needs of men, fertile wombs and plentiful harvests, warmth and health and sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, obviously it's after the 21st, but I still plan to finish this ASAP. I am annoyed that my health issues have gotten in between me and my writing, but there's not much I can do but work slowly and hope the flare-up subsides soon. With any luck, I'll get this done by the end of the year, and then I can go back to my other languishing WIPs.

He knew it was her when he'd given her his name, but if there was one thing Ben Solo was good at - really, amazingly good at - it was self-deception.

Rey with an ‘e’, as if it made a difference. As if the eyes weren’t the same, and the fierce spirit and the stubborn insistence on protecting her people without a care as to her own safety. In the same situation, a thousand years ago, this Maiden would have done exactly the same as the last, spending her dying energy to keep her lover alive.

He’d found her, there was no doubt about that. If ever there had been.

Now he just had to get her to the circle, to take his hand and follow him into the cavern of unmelting ice within the heart of Hrothgar. To lie with him on the makeshift bed of furs and comforters - he would make sure it was nice, that the ground wasn’t cold and hard, his love had endured enough hardships - and awaken the fire of his heart.

But the Longest Night was fast approaching, and it was a two-day journey by air to Hrothgar, four if they borrowed horses. Which meant Ben Solo had to make a broom, and he had to make it fast.

“I’ve got a good long ash walking stick,” Rey offered as they went through her supply room. It shared one wall with the cabin and one with the animal pen, the other two sturdy, weather-sealed cedar like the inside floors and roof. Strong spells kept it water and vermin-free, and strong wards prevented all but Rey or another powerful witch from entering. 

“Too thin,” he shook his head, giving her a sideways glance because  _ really _ , her friends had nicknamed him ‘mountain man,’ for gods’ sake.

“Okay, alright. Hang on. I think there’s some extra cedar here somewhere… Ah!”

The piece she pulled out was not particularly long, but it was sturdy and made of a single, solid piece. One end was a little wider than the other, making it perfect for maneuvering with the right runes. He ran his hands over it, feeling a warm sense of kinship he hadn’t experienced in centuries, and unbidden, he felt his lips tugged into a childish grin.

“This is perfect,” he told her, excitement coloring his voice. But he didn’t care, he had spent far too long just riding the air currents under the power of the mask, and the very idea of building a broom of his own again brought out the child he wasn’t even aware was still there.

Rey caught him grinning and regarded him with a smile of her own, climbing out of the storage closet, but leaving the door thrown wide.

“Alright,  _ sweetheart _ , you’re not a five-year-old. I’m assuming you  _ have _ built one of these before? Because I don’t think we have time for a beginner’s course in broom-building.” She stood with one hand on her hip as he ran a palm over the back of it, getting a sense for how it would steer. “What else do you need?”

“What have you got?”

“See for yourself,” she gestured with a bit of annoyance. “I can’t spend all day with you, we’re leaving tomorrow and I’ve got to walk Paige through caring for the goats and get Chirrut’s new lambs checked over.”

“I can barely move in there,” he protested. “And you’ve got boxes of project materials everywhere. Half of it looks like it’ll collapse if I so much as back into it!”

“Are you a witch, or aren’t you, Mr. Skywalker?” She snapped, looking at him disgustedly. “If you knock something down, pick it up. If you can’t see, summon a witchlight. If you need anything else, feel free to go inside and use my work table to do a sending and ask your mommy for help with all this terrible homework your mean old master gave you, because your mean old master is  _ busy _ !”

“You’re not old,” he chuckled.

“Oh, but I  _ am _ your master?”

“Ahhh…”

“Get to work, Ben,” she said more softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll check in after I’m done with the lambs.”

 

Building a broom was not as easy as he remembered, although he should have expected it, given how rusty some of his other skills had become. His knack with animals had made him overconfident, and now he was cursing himself and contemplating whether or not his mother would, in fact, offer assistance if he performed a sending.

Of course, that required him to figure out Rey’s runes and workspace and attempt to use them without harming himself or interfering with her magical fields. Something he imagined would be even harder than putting together a broom after nine-hundred and ninety-nine years of simply riding air currents.

He could, of course, go into the kitchen and find the mask, slip it back over his face and fall into the familiar rhythm of stepping from one air current to the next, but he was loathe to do so. Firstly, the past few days he had felt more like himself, his old self, the young witch who called himself Kylo Ren and was as handy with a sword as he was runes, than he had in centuries. So many memories had come back to him now, he was afraid to lose them in the icy numbness that filtered his thoughts behind the mask.

And secondly, he wanted to travel with Rey, not just because he enjoyed her company, but also because she had encountered the Fair Folk twice in as many days, and he did not want to risk it happening again when she was alone. She was a brilliant witch for one so young, and that staff of hers was nothing to joke about, but Ben had spent a long time looking for her in contest with the Snow Queen’s general, Smiling Fox.

He was pretty sure that bastard had caught an incarnation somewhere between the first Kira and the current Rey, and he was the reason it had taken Ben so long to find her. If he came upon her while she was sleeping or managed to overpower her with his considerable tricks, he had no doubt Smiling Fox would be the end of her. Perhaps the Gray Woman would help, or perhaps not. The Fae were tricky and duplicitous creatures, and he had no desire to test them.

A thought occurred, as he studied the components around him in the carefully drawn circle he’d made of salt in the middle of the cabin floor. He may not be wearing the mask anymore, but he was still technically the Winter Knight. The ancient magics were far more binding than just simple appearances, and he had plenty of practice directing and bending them to his will.

He closed his eyes and reached out to his gods. Normally, clothed in the cold and wintery essence of the mask, the entities he worked with were chilled and emotionless. The old Holly King, his eyes milky under his crown of berries, in the height of his power so close to the solstice. The Crone stirring her cauldron endlessly, her red-eyed hounds guarding against those who might try and steal a taste of the elixir she created.

They were old, familiar companions, and he had relied on their wisdom for years, but they could not help him now, even if they wished to. The Maiden had been found, and soon their long years of power would cease. It was the natural order, and he sensed no bitterness from them as he called instead upon younger, more vibrant gods of spring and summer, Lugh and Pryderi, Ydun and Persephone.

He was surprised by the swiftness with which their light flowed through him, his eyes opened wide at the whispers of the goddesses around him. Ben had spent so much time with that part of himself shut off, only recently rekindled by Rey’s closeness, he had forgotten how it felt to be young, enamoured and in love.

If he’d had any lingering doubts about their plans, the promises that had been made, or her true feelings about it all, they were laid to rest now. He moved his hands slowly over his work, watching the runes etch themselves into the smoothed wood, the dried reeds weaving themselves with strong twine around the base, the heat of the magic searing his hands as if he held them over Rey’s sweet, warm body.

He dismissed the powers that aided him with heartfelt gratitude and no small amount of awe. As a young witch, Kylo Ren had pursued the gods and stories that tended to be popular among young men - gods of war and battle, strength and wine and sex. He’d moved on from Thor and Herne eventually, but the gods he chose as an adult still reflected some of his inner self-doubt and cynicism, Odin and his gift of hard-won knowledge, capricious Mercury and the multiple goddesses of Death.

He’d lived over an entire millennia, and never once prayed to the Light, given thanks or reverence to the entities who bestowed life and fertility and gifted the most basic needs of men, fertile wombs and plentiful harvests, warmth and health and  _ sunlight _ .

Once, when Kylo was very young, before he’d gone to study with his uncle in Hrothgar, he had seen a statue of some scandalously-clad goddess in his father’s closet and questioned it.

“A man takes his wife’s gods if he moves into her house, kid,” Han had told him gruffly. “It’s her hearth. If you move her into your house, that’s different. And I don’t know how it works with same-sex couples, but I imagine it’s much the same. Whoever keeps the fire going and sweeps the porch keeps the gods.” He’d shrugged at the statue. “They don’t mind a little shrine in the closet, I reckon, and me an Circe go back a long time.”

He glanced now at Rey’s hearth, the blazing fire dancing merrily after she’d stoked it to life in the morning, and considered that he wouldn’t mind switching his allegiance too much. The gods of snow and cold had certainly gotten their due from him - from the world at large, really, at his own hands.

The sunrise after a thousand years of gray would be a more than welcome sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note about gods and pagan traditions - there are many, many paths, and every witch I know walks their own, unique way. I have tried to pull in stories and traditions from multiple pantheons, but obviously with this kind of thing there's not enough space to fit in everything, and I'm keeping it as fluffy as possible.
> 
> I know I've taken liberties, not every god or tradition mentioned is going to be a perfect representation, but it's fiction. Please don't be offended if I haven't captured your gods or practices with 100% perfect accuracy. Everyone's path is different.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, Gods, Ben. Really, I was just -” He rolled them to the side so she was facing away, and used his knee to part her legs, forcing them wide as his hand slipped down beneath her outer skirts. She made an indignant noise. “What are you doing!?”
> 
> “Tell me to stop and I will.”
> 
> Rey's breath was ragged, and she had no idea how she had lost control of the situation so quickly, but she really didn't want it to stop. Unfortunately…

“The key is under the porch, though I can’t imagine you’ll have reason to lock it,” Rey told Paige, after finishing her instructions on feeding the animals. “I’ve already made arrangements for Baze to come up and do the milking. Is there anything else you need to know?”

“No, Rey, it’s fine,” the little girl grinned. “I’ve only fed them like a hundred times.”

“Not during the winter,” Rey admonished. “It’s cold for them now, they’ll need the fire kept warm and hot mash in the morning. And whatever you do, do  _ not _ let Daisy out of the house while I'm away.”

“I know, I know,” Rose and Finn’s daughter smirked at them. “Mum says you’re going to bring back summer, so if you’re worried about the goats an’ ponies getting too cold, oughtn't you hurry up and go?”

“Alright, Paige, there’s not need to be a sass about it.” Rey smiled slightly as she climbed over her broom. “Have a happy Winter Solstice, alright?” 

“Make sure you refresh the Yule log,” Ben added. “Just because we’re not here doesn’t mean we should ignore tradition. And remember what I said about Titus.”

“Yes, Master Skywalker,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Go! Have a good time! Bring back presents!”

Rey waved as she took to the air, and Paige waved back, Ben following a little slowly after her, his concentration clearly focused on keeping himself aloft and steered in the right direction.

“Are you sure you’re going to make it a whole two days?” She teased.

He glanced her direction with a scowl, his dark eyes showing a flicker of embarrassment as he awkwardly fell in beside her. Rey had to admit, the sight of him on a broom was a bit amusing, partly because he dwarfed it in every way, looking a bit like a grown adult trying to ride one of her small, fat little ponies. She giggled at the thought, and Ben shot her another dark look.

“I’m glad I’m amusing you so much. You’ll certainly have a good laugh if I fall and injure myself again, and you have to tend to me,” he grumbled. He was trying to sound annoyed, but she could hear the undertone of a bruised ego beneath it.

“Oh, I beg your pardon. I rather thought you  _ liked _ me tending to you.” She retorted, teasing him gently. “Especially the part where I let you sleep half-nude in my bed. Or was this morning just -”

“Dammit, Rey! Keep on about that and I  _ will _ fall!”

Rey just smiled a small, secret little smile, and moved her broom slightly ahead of him, setting course for the high mountain of Hrothgar, the tallest peak in all of Solstice. Hopefully, they would make good time, although she was starting to wonder how Ben would handle the hours of riding after being so long out of practice.

 

“You look miserable,” she observed as he lay on his stomach, her extra cloak stuffed up under his head and his legs splayed out, half-on and half-off their bedding. Ben’s eyes were closed, but his whole body was tense, even his long face was twisted in discomfort. “I’m not judging, honestly. But I packed salve just for this reason, and if you’re not going to be an adult about it, I suppose I’ll just have to strip you and rub it in myself once you’ve fallen asleep.”

“You wouldn’t -” He choked, his pale skin burning a bright scarlet in the firelight.

“I most certainly would.” Rey promised sternly, turning to pour out tea from the pot of water she’d been boiling. She brought it over to him, along with several thick slices of pumpkin bread and hard cheese.

Crossing her legs, she sat on the ground in front of him, watching him carefully as he tried to sip tea and cram food in his mouth without moving too much. She pursed her mouth, doing her best not to laugh as he flinched with every subtle movement. He really was a prideful bastard, and she had no doubt he would continue being one until she forced the issue, which she had every intention of doing. They couldn't afford to be held up just because Kylo Ren, The Winter Knight and thousand-year-old witch, was suffering from a sore behind.

“Alright,” she looked him over appraisingly. “We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. If we do it the easy way, I’ll try to make it as pleasant as possible, but if you’re going to fight me on it -”

“Define easy,” he refused to look at her, ducking his face down to hide behind his long forearms, and his deep voice was a higher pitch than she was accustomed to.

Rey walked around him, kneeling at his side and sliding fingers beneath the waist of his trousers. Ben exhaled sharply, and she grinned to herself. He had no idea what she was planning, and she was eager to see just how he would respond.

“Take these off. Your underthings, too.”

He groaned, and she could see a flush rising to the tips of his ears, just barely poking through his tangle of ebony waves. But after a second’s hesitation, he did as she asked, squirming out of his clothes and shoving them down past his knees with her assistance.

“Rey?”

“Erm. Sorry.” 

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. Had she really been staring that long? She shook herself, trying to force in normal breaths, and did not reach out to grip his pale, firm cheeks, or taste the exposed skin of his lower back, regardless of how much she wanted to. But, Blessed Spirits, did he have to be so damn muscular _everywhere_? Or have such a tempting smattering of freckles and beauty marks that her tongue desperately begged to taste?

Biting her tongue, she reached for the jar she’d brought, dipping her fingers in to get a large glob of the soothing balm that she used for bruises and sore muscles, infused with a trace of her magic to extend the effects overnight. He gasped and cursed when her hands touched his upper thighs, and she could feel his whole body tense.

“Sorry,” she murmured, more softly than she had been speaking before. “I should have warned you. It does go on a bit cold.”

“I don’t care about the cold, Rey.” He snorted, making a sort of choked whine as she continued to work the ointment in his flesh. His hips shifted slightly, and she caught a glimpse of something underneath, and all at once she understood, and her hands stilled. Apparently he was fighting much the same mental battle she had been struggling under. 

“Oh… I didn’t think…” She hesitated, and he turned his head around, looking up at her with a breathless, intense sort of expression. Rey glanced at his tightened muscles, then back to his face questioningly. “Should I…?”

“Don’t stop now,” he sighed. “Unless you’re… uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” she assured, returning to her ministrations confidently, letting her hands squeeze gently, fingers gliding in a slow exploration that was absolutely unnecessary for the purpose of rubbing in the ointment. “Definitely… not uncomfortable.”

Rey moved around behind him, kneeling in between his legs, and Ben groaned as she massaged him thoroughly, lifting himself a little on his knees for comfort. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck, and he shivered.

“Is this okay?” She whispered, though there was no one around to hear. “If you want me to stop, I'll -”

“It’s fine.” He dropped his head down, giving her easier access to his neck and shoulders as she slipped her hands beneath his shirt and pushed it up. “Just so we’re clear,” he mumbled, “you can do whatever you want to me, Rey.”

“Really?” 

Her pulse quickened as she considered her devious plan. If that's how he felt...She tugged upwards on his shirt, and he rose to quickly yank it off, leaving him completely bare beneath her gentle, slow massage.

“Gods and spirits,  _ Ben! _ ” She hissed, eyeing the body splayed out before her. “You have the body of a god. I can’t believe you’re letting me touch you…”

“Just you,” he sighed, finally relaxing under Rey’s persistent efforts. “Your hands are so warm… that feels… amazing. What is it?”

“Arnica and peppermint, with a strengthening spell. Lasts all night, and you should be right as rain in the morning.” She was rather proud of her little concoction, having first designed it for Master Luke’s aching joints when she was still a student. “Mixed with mare’s milk and a lot of purified animal fats. My own recipe.”

“You’re a brilliant witch, Rey. I don’t know if I said it before, but it bears repeating.”

“Thank you,” she smiled to herself, her hands working tirelessly over his massive shoulders. She could still see the tip of one ear through a part in his hair, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss it, marveling at the way his muscles flexed beneath her in response.

“You’re torturing me on purpose, aren’t you?” He groaned, voice rising as she ran her tongue along the edge of his ear, then gave it a mischievous little nip. “Rey -”

He started to turn, and she pressed him back down with a little hum of disapproval, then proceeded to lick and nip at his neck. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? Gods alive! Ahh…”

“One more day,” she promised heatedly against his ear. Then she waved her hand vigorously, whispering a spell to rid it of the substances that she knew would make what she was about to do  _ very _ uncomfortable. Free of the dangerous ointment, she slipped her hand around and beneath, and Ben gave a ragged moan. “In the meantime....”

“Oh…” He breathed out several curses as her hand moved, finding a synchronous rhythm with the movement of his hips. “Oh, Rey!”

“No. Say my name,  _ Ben _ ,” she demanded, squeezing her fingers a slight fraction.

“Gods - Ah! -” he writhed underneath her, his breath ragged, and he hissed in a low voice that made her insides melt with warmth. “Ah!  _ Kira _ …  _ Kira! _ ”

Suddenly, he rolled, his hands gripping her arms to hold her still, until he held her breathlessly on top of him. His lips found hers, one hand coming up to hold her steady as he delved into her mouth with his tongue, and Rey whined hungrily. 

“Shh…” He drew back to look at her, his carmel eyes dark and wide. “If you're going to do that, I want to see you.”

“Oh…” She blushed, glancing down to where his manhood was trapped, hard and heavy between them. He guided her hand back to it gently, but Rey had other ideas. Slowly, with one hand still wrapped firmly around him, she crawled further down, and Ben cursed in several languages as she hesitantly darted her tongue out to taste him. “Is that -”

“Yes. You can do whatever you want. I meant it.” He growled when she slipped her mouth around the head, his hands drifting up to cover her shoulders. “Fuck, that's good!”

“Hmm.” She wondered how it would work, if she could make him spill with her mouth and still keep them pure enough for the ritual. “Ben. Can I… If you come, does that make it…?”

“I don't know.” He sighed, letting his head fall back hard on the ground. “Damn.”

“We shouldn't risk it…”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I'm sorry.”

“No,” he shook his head, reaching down to pull her up over his chest, stroking her face and neck tenderly with his long fingers. “Don't be sorry. I haven't felt this alive in… centuries.”

“How's the rest of your body?” She asked after a moment, pretending perfect innocence.

Ben craned his head back to look at her, a mix of suspicion and amusement in his gaze.

“Did you… You did that on purpose!”

“I did not!” She protested as he brought one hand down firmly on her back, holding her with an iron grip against his chest. Rey struggled as he dragged his free hand down, smoothing over her chest and tracing the laces of her bodice. “I just thought a bit of a distraction would be helpful!”

“Oh, really? Just a bit of a distraction?” Deft fingers worked her laces loose, and he slipped his hand beneath her blouse, palming her breast in one quick movement. Rey gasped, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Oh, I'm sorry. Am I distracting you?”

“That's hardly fair -” 

“You started this game, Rey,” he reminded her, finding her nipple and languidly stroking his thumb over it while she squirmed against him. He lowered his lips beside her ear. “I'll stop if you want, but don't complain if I’m overeager when I take you tomorrow.”

“Oh, Gods, Ben. Really, I was just -” He rolled them to the side so she was facing away, and used his knee to part her legs, forcing them wide as his hand slipped down beneath her outer skirts. She made an indignant noise. “What are you doing!?”

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Rey's breath was ragged, and she had no idea how she had lost control of the situation so quickly, but she really didn't want it to stop. Unfortunately…

“Ben,” she closed her eyes, gathering her resolve under the continued stimulation of his hands on her body. “Stop. Please.”

“Alright.” He released her immediately, and she whimpered at the loss of contact. Before she knew it, he had tugged his clothes back on and was draping the blankets over them both.

“I want to, I really do.” She sighed. “But, if we make a mistake…”

“I know, sweetheart. I do.” He reached out under the covers, pulling her in and tucking his body around hers. “Hush. Go to sleep. We still have a lot of travelling to do.”

“Right. I know.”

 

She hadn't really expected to fall asleep, but when she opened her eyes in the faint morning light, she was surprised to find that she had.

But her feelings of serenity after a good night's rest were swiftly trampled as she realised Ben was nowhere to be found. Heart pounding, she dug through her satchel and pack, uttering a litany of foul words as her search failed to find the mask of Winter.

His belongings, such as they were, had disappeared as well, along with a quarter of her travelling rations and some extra sleeping furs. Rey surveyed their camp furiously, practically stomping around as she packed up, tossing her things away haphazardly and ruthlessly stuffing gear and utensils away with none of her usual care and precision. 

It wasn't until she had everything packed and the firepit turned over that she was struck by one simple, incongruous detail.

Ben had taken his broom, as well.

There was no reason for it. He had the mask, he could travel the winds as he wished. With all the power of the ancient artifact at hand, he had no need to use a broom as other witches, and he had been decidedly rusty and uncomfortable with it the previous day. So why even bother with it now?

Unless… He wasn't using the mask. Rey couldn't explain why, exactly, but the fact that he’d taken it without immediately putting it on lifted her spirits, almost unbearably so. If he was simply after power, he would not have hesitated to use it, thus there was a more complicated motivation behind his sudden departure. 

The only way to find out was to keep going, attend the Gathering and the circle, and hope Ben was the man she thought he was.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Perhaps what you seek is not here?” She asked as if for his ears alone.
> 
> Frowning, he regarded her closely. Unlike Luke and the other masters, Granny Ashla seemed unfazed by his refusal to honor the timeless tradition, as if she had some knowledge they did not… Because, he realized, she did…
> 
> “No. She’s not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is hella long, but I couldn't find a good breaking point, so here ya go! Happy Holidays to everyone, of every faith and creed!

Rey! I thought you might have changed your mind!” Master Luke waved to her from the crowded circle of tents grouped around the massive bonfire that had just started burning. Her aged master greeted her as she settled her broom against the long rack that held all the others, the garland of holly he wore every year already perched over his gray hair. With his thick beard and light eyes, Master Luke looked more and more like the dying winter god every year, and Rey felt a pang of loss as she realised how much older he appeared. It was difficult to tell with witches, but once they started aging so visibly, it was a clear sign Death was on his way.

She frowned as she hugged him, looking around and noting some of the other familiar faces, witches she had trained with and old masters she had studied under. Some gave her a friendly wave, but she not see the one face she yearned for, and Luke’s surprise at her arrival had made her nervous.

“Are you well, Master?” Rey asked, politely turning her attention to him. It was considered rude to ask a witch if they were due to meet Death, but since every witch knew the exact date and time of said meeting the moment they became a witch, she trusted her master would tell her if this would be their last solstice together.

“Don’t worry about me,” he shook off her concerned gaze. “You’ll see me at Midsummer, I promise. Do you have the artifact?”

At her sharp look, Master Luke shook his head sadly. Rey dropped her gaze down to her feet and breathed, telling herself sternly that crying over a man she’d only known for twelve days was ridiculous.

“I don’t know what to do, Master,” she hastened to reply, talking to cover her rapidly plummeting spirits. “He made a broom so we could travel together, but when I woke up this morning, he was gone. He took the mask, but I don’t know why. I don’t know if he…”

Rey shook her head, hiding her face in the shadow of her hood against the darkening afternoon, and Luke sighed, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Rey -”

“Don’t.” She shoved his hand away, turning away from the fire. “Just… Don’t patronize me. You’ve known… You know  _ everything _ . You gave me that name. Why didn’t you tell me -”

“It wasn’t my place,” he defended, withdrawing his attempt at comfort. “There are rules about reincarnation. Important rules. I did my best to prepare you, believe me -”

“No. You did your best to manipulate me,” she hissed, her harsh voice drawing looks from the other witches nearby. Rey scowled, but refused to back down or lower her voice, facing Luke as an equal. “I don’t know what to believe anymore! And I certainly don’t want your help!”

“There is more at stake here than just you!”

“I’m not an imbecile, Luke! I understand what’s at stake!” She turned, unable to face the growing looks of curiosity around them, and stormed through the crowd, taking the long path around the circled tents and camp sites to the iced over stream where the witches drew their water.

Lost to her inner ranting, she nearly knocked over a familiar hunched figure, and Rey cursed and apologized as she reached out to steady the elderly witch, her gnarled white cane and long gray braids giving away her identity.

“I’m so sorry, Granny,” she said again, bending to retrieve the old woman’s cane and holding it out to her. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Hmm.” Bright blue eyes looked her over, the old woman’s expression unreadable, but kind. “I thought I heard Luke Skywalker yelling. Old codger’s really put you in a tight spot, hasn’t he?”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb, girl. Some of us were around before there were Skywalkers stealing every show.” Granny Ashla chuckled, patting her arm firmly. “I imagine you’ve got it figured out now that you’ve met  _ him _ , eh?”

“Oh.” Rey heaved a sigh. “Are you going to tell me to lie back and think of all the people I’ll be saving from the cold and dark?”

“No. Is that what Luke told you?”

“He sort of implied it, actually. Not in those specific words.” Ashla’s clever eyes held her and she deflated a little. “I may have… read a bit into it.”

“You’re angry,” she observed. “I assume a man is involved.”

“Several of them, actually. What did you say about Skywalkers?”

“Ah, you caught that, did you?” Eyes twinkling, the old woman laughed. “Yes, Skywalkers. They’re quite good at wreaking havoc with our world. I suppose we ought to be thankful none of the women chose to join our craft. Perhaps they were a bit wiser than their male counterparts.” 

She sighed, and hobbled forward, letting Rey help her sit on a nearby boulder. “Rey. Listen to me. It’s not a sacrifice if you feel compelled, eh? As much as the Gathering would like to believe otherwise, the truth is, this choice is yours and yours alone.”

Rey bit her lip, peering down at the old witch thoughtfully, and for a long moment they sat in silence, watching the shortest day of the year draw to an end as the light faded around them. Finally, she couldn’t help but break the silence, her mind still working over Ashla and Luke’s conflicting words, and the infuriating puzzle of Ben Solo/Kylo Ren that had consumed so much of her energy already.

“I’m going to the circle,” she said quietly. Of course she was. It wasn’t ever really a question, she just wanted… something of her own. Some semblance of agency before she committed to a life-altering decision. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to… To let him…”

“Stand in the back, let him search for you,” Granny Ashla advised with a smirk. “You want to make him earn your love? Then make him.”

“But, what if he just… chooses someone else? What if -”

“Do you think he will?”

“No,” Rey said slowly, casting the old woman a thoughtful look. “I think… I don’t know why he left, but if he’s there tonight… No. He’ll be expecting me.”

“Hah! Of course he will. Runs off to think things through himself, then expects you to just be there waiting when he makes up his mind?” Ashla snorted. “Selfish, arrogant child.”

“I’m not -”

“I meant him, dear.” She reached out and took Rey’s hand, giving it a surprisingly hard squeeze. “Normally I don’t advise couples to get even in such a way, but if I were you… I wouldn’t be at that circle at all.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“Think about it. You know the way into the mountain, don’t you?”   
  
  


The mask dampened his emotions, but it didn’t cut them off completely. So when he couldn’t find Rey around the fire, he was able to fight the onset of panic, but only just. Instead he paced, he stalled, he peered into every shadowed face, but there were none he recognized, and he quickly ran out of time.

“Will you not choose?”

The voice was familiar, if unexpected. Surely the old woman was dead by now? She was old even when he was an apprentice. But no, he recognized the spark of blue eyes, still full of secrets and cunning, and when he met her knowing gaze, he flinched.

“No,” he murmured, to the shock and distress of those gathered. He saw Luke crossing his arms and scowling, but the old woman smiled as if his refusal to take one of the others in Rey’s place amused her. He shook his head again, and her eyes held him, serene and kind and…  _ proud _ ?

“Perhaps what you seek is not here?” She asked as if for his ears alone. 

Frowning, he regarded her closely. Unlike Luke and the other masters, Granny Ashla seemed unfazed by his refusal to honor the timeless tradition, as if she had some knowledge they did not… Because, he realized, she did…

“No. She’s not.”

He was a fool, really. He could sense her, he had before, right before he’d been attacked by the basilisks and lost the mask, the magic of the Winter Knight seeking its counterpart as it always had. All he had to do was listen. She wasn’t even far.

Luke’s voice reached him faintly as he turned away, but he ignored it, following the draw he could feel in his mind, the light and warmth that increased as he grew closer. The path was intimately familiar to him, and if he had given it a second’s thought, he would have known where to go without even stopping at the fire.

 

As it was, the room was already prepared when he arrived, the candles lit and the impossible hearth blazing in the center of the cavern of unmelting ice. The floor was spread with blankets and furs he recognized, and he stepped slowly into the room, looking around for the presence he could feel so acutely now it was like a scalding iron inside his chest.

“Kylo.” She had put herself between him and the entrance, some leftover instinct not quite ready yet to trust him fully. Of course, he’d left her without a word, stupidly thinking she would understand, forgetting that Rey,  _ this _ Rey, had been abandoned before by those who were supposed to love her. Her use of his given name was an accusation, and he deserved the trace of ire in her tone.

Rey crossed her arms, watching and waiting for him to respond, and he stuttered, frozen now at the very end, just as frightened in his own way.

“Say something,” she demanded.

“What do you want me to say?” Instinctively drawn to her by the magic of the mask, he stepped closer, and Rey breathed out sharply as he stood over her, her eyes searching his wildly through the mask. 

Hesitantly, she reached up, ungloved fingers tracing the side of the mask, and he gasped at the sensation of heat, closing his eyes briefly. “Rey.”

_ “Ben _ .”

She tilted her head, and he took the invitation, gently closing his hands around her arms and leaning towards her until the cold edges of the mask brushed her skin and she hissed.

“Is this okay?” He begged more than asked, his whole body consumed with the need, and at her decisive nod, he kissed her, her warmth seeping into his lips through the chill, melting away the mask between them. Rey moaned, her eyes dropping closed as the layer between them disappeared, and he pressed for more, until her lips parted and her tongue brushed against his.

They moved together rapidly, Rey gripping his upper arms and walking him backwards, to the nest she had laid out, both of them giving and taking equally, until she pulled away with a groan.

“Glad to see you put the blankets you stole to good use,” she teased with a trace of rebuke.

“I’m sorry. I just thought… It would be better if we traveled separately. The mask has… certain enchantments.” He barely glanced behind him as he drew her down, and Rey climbed on top of him immediately, her hands already tugging at his clothes. 

“You don’t say,” she mumbled, looking him over with eyes already reflecting the same need he felt. “Still. A note would have been nice.”

“Yeah, I guess. ‘Dear Rey, Sorry, but I think we should travel alone because I don’t know how much longer I can go without ravishing you like a starving wolverine,” he smirked, sitting up to let her push his coat away and pull off his shirt. “I was managing, until last night, when I realized it was effecting you, too.”

“You have to tell me things, Ben.” His hands slid down to her hips as she pressed hot kisses down the planes of his chest, but when he tried to flip their positions, Rey firmly pushed him down. “No, that’s not how this is going to happen.”

“Please, Rey -” He couldn’t breathe at the feeling of her hands working at his belt, the need to control her, to  _ take _ her, was so strong he could taste it. 

“I’ll let you - later,” he promised, “but I -”

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. With a few tugs and his help, she freed him from his clothes entirely, and then stood over him to remove her own. “Sorry, but you lost your decision-making privileges. If you want it that way, you’ll have to earn it.”

He blinked, dazedly, as she climbed back over him, pinning him easily with her hips straddling his. Rey’s head fell back with pleasure as she rubbed herself over him, and for a moment Ben was stunned, too overwhelmed by her to even move, other than instinctively thrusting against her.

“ _ Gods _ , Rey!” He groaned as her slick folds fit around him, gripping her waist in his hands and watching her round breasts rocking above him. “Please let me - I want to taste you -”

“Go on, then,” she encouraged, leaning down as he reached to palm her breasts in his hands. “Oh! You’re… cold…”

She flinched at the brush of his thumb over her hard nipple, and he responded by wrapping his lips around it, knowing at least the inside of his mouth would be warm enough.

“ _ Ben, _ ” she moaned his name breathily, leaning down further, and he alternated his mouth and hand, teasing her with the change in sensation and temperature. “Oh… Ahh…”

She shivered, and he pulled back to look at her face, her eyes opening wide at the loss of touch.

“Don’t stop, please!”

“I want to taste you…” he dragged his hand down from her breast to where she rocked over him, and Rey hissed at the cold of his touch on her sensitive apex. He watched transfixed, as she moved, easing into the tentative rubbing of his thumb against her, her own heat and moisture soon overcoming the chill of his skin. 

“Rey,” he begged insistently.

“Oh.” She glanced down, then back to him, her face flush with embarrassment as she took in what he was asking. “You really want to?”

“Yes. Please,” he asked again. “I want to make sure it’s… good for you.”

She blushed again, but nodded, and he tugged gently at her hips, guiding her move upwards until she straddled his face instead. Her heat melted what was left of the mask, though she gasped at first when the cold touched her, it was fleeting, and he soon soothed it over with his tongue.

“ _ Ben, _ ” she made his name a mantra, combined with other mindless rambling, and any hesitation she had was quickly overcome. She tasted like sunlight and citrus - summer fruit that could never grow in the Thousand-Year Winter - and he decided it was quite possibly the best idea he’d ever had when her strong fingers twisted in his hair. 

“Oh, gods, that feels… so good…”

Very carefully, he eased her up just enough to fit a finger inside of her, and then another and she moaned and clenched around the intrusion. Inside she felt like wet silk, and he groaned against her at the thought of plunging his length into her heated body, feeling her tighten and slide over him.

“I - I’m - Oh, gods -” She tried to push him away, but he held her steady with his free hand, continuing the rapid strokes with the flat of his tongue that made her moan so wildly, until she froze over him, sobbing his name again and again. He moved his fingers slowly in and out, drawing out her pleasure until she slumped slightly and sat back.

“Oh, Ben,” she looked down at him with hooded eyes. “I never imagined…”

“You taste like summer,” he said, thumbs rubbing light circles over her hip bones. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Oh, right!”  She laughed, proceeding to climb back down and take him in her hand, hesitantly stroking him up and down. “You’re so soft.” 

Her eyes flashed with an idea, and he shook his head slightly when she met his gaze. “Do you want me to -”

“Not right now. Another time, though -” He nearly yelped in shock as she moved decisively to line them up and lowered herself, his eyes rolling back with pure pleasure at the sudden sensation. “Fuck, Rey.  _ Kira. _ You feel incredible, sweetheart.”

She mewled softly, and he looked up to see her eyes half-closed, an expression of delight spread over her face. Slowly, she wiggled and adjusted, taking him further, and they both groaned when she slid down fully and he was buried to the hilt within her.

Heat surged through him, spreading from where they were joined, and he opened his eyes wide at the same time Rey did, both of them taking in the soft amber glow of magic swirling through the air around them. A rush of wind filled the room suddenly, and Ben felt something inside him break and fall away, the pang of loss overwhelmed by the surge of affection he felt for the woman above him.

“ _ Ben? _ Are you alright?”

“Never felt better,” he assured her, pushing himself up on his hands to kiss her. Memories came back to him in a flood - those same hazel-green eyes with lighter hair, looking up at him with such warmth and trust and - “I love you,  _ Kira _ . I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh…” She soothed, gently moving over him, bringing him out of the haze of memory into the light. “Let the past die. It’s just us now.”

“Yes…” He pulled her down against him, holding her close while they found a rhythm together, kissing her neck and shoulder before finding her lips again and snaking his tongue into her mouth. 

Rey was everywhere around him, her hair falling out of its braid to curtain them, her lemony-verbena scent filling his nose and her taste on his tongue as she caressed it with her own. Her deep, velvet heat tight and so divinely warm around him, sliding in a steadily increasing rhythm that grew more desperate as she whined and whimpered above him.

She broke out of their kiss to press her forehead to his, and he watched her as she panted and fucked him furiously, slamming her body up and down with her hands braced against his chest.

“Can I make you come again?”

Wide-eyed, she nodded, and he dug his hands into her hips, holding her down and and thrusting up into her with the strength she seemed to crave.

“Harder, harder, Ben!” He groaned as he did his best to fulfil her demand, his own release rapidly approaching with each punishing thrust. Rey dropped her head into his shoulder, her nails digging into his flesh as she froze and shuddered to a halt, her cries filling his ear. 

“Oh, Gods, I love you, I love you…  _ Ben _ !”

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them so he could finish, joining her in just a few quick thrusts with his own jubilant roar. Rey cupped his face in her hands as they both caught their breath, his arms still wrapped loosely around her, hugging her close.

“You’re warm,” she whispered, stroking his skin.

“Am I?” He exhaled against her cheek, and felt the warmth of the breath leaving his lungs, grinning down at her like an idiot. “Oh.”

There was no trace left of the mask, or the Winter Knight. There was just them, Ben and Kira, falling asleep together in their own blankets, bodies and hearts entwined.

  
  


Rey awoke early, as she almost always did, but was reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of her shared bed, and the arms of the man she loved. It would have been nice to just fall back asleep, and for a while she tried to will herself to do it, but eventually she gave up. Ben grumbled as she extricated herself, reaching out to pull her back into his embrace, but she batted his groping hands away.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just going to relieve my bladder,” she promised. Hopefully with that need seen to, she could convince her body to rest again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he mumbled as she kissed his forehead.

There was no reason to go outside and face the frigid cold, but something drew her anyway, and Rey wrapped a spare fur around herself, venturing just to the mouth of the cavern.

She nearly screamed when a gray horse exploded from the brush, landing before her in the predawn with a flurry of snow. The familiar rider dismounted quickly, and Rey stood transfixed as the blonde woman approached her. Pale hands reached up to her golden mask, and it came away slowly to reveal a stern-faced woman who appeared well-versed in the use of the sword at her hip.

“I believe this belongs to you, now,” she said in a low voice. Rey accepted the gift with trembling hands, bowing respectfully to the Fair Folk warrior. “Good work, child.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she responded automatically, still staring down at the strange object in her hands. 

She didn’t notice when the Gray Woman disappeared, but she noticed when a strange, golden-white light began to creep over her, and with a shriek of joy, she called out to Ben.

  
  
  


“Mum! Dad! Come see!”

“Paige, go to bed!” Finn protested. “We’ve been up all night, baby girl.”

“I know, but you have to come look!” He opened his eyes to see his daughter bouncing in the bedroom doorway, alight with excitement.

“Paige,” Rose grumbled. “If you don’t take a nap before the feast -”

“Mum, it’s the SUN!”

“The  _ what? _ ”

Rose was out of bed before Finn even fully processed what their daughter had said, rushing to the door after her. He was close behind, but still grumbling, having stayed up all night in the Winter Solstice tradition, he only had a few hours to nap before he had to be in the kitchen to start the goose and peel potatoes and...

None of that mattered...

Finn and Rose exchanged a quick look, standing on their doorstep with their daughter dancing in the street as brilliant colors of pink and gold painted the clouds, radiating from a blinding disc on the edge of the horizon.

“Holy shite!”

Poe Dameron stood on his own stoop across from them, gaping with his eyes shaded by his hand. Several other villagers soon joined them, none of them speaking other than muttered curses and exclamations of shock.

“She really did it,” Rose whispered cryptically at his side, her arms crossed and a secret smile on her lips. 

“Who did what?”

“Never you mind,” his wife smirked. “Go inside and start the goose. We’ve got a hell of a celebration to start.”

 

 

 

_ Ten years later _

 

Luke Skywalker stood in a wooded clearing outside of Riverwind, his attention focused on the dark-haired little girl before him, while another part of his mind acknowledged all the parts of this scene he never thought he would see. Late afternoon sunlight filtered down through green leaves, illuminating the little clearing and bouncing brightly along the little stream nearby.

“Master Luke!” The girl demanded, bristling with excitement. “I’m really ready this time, I promise!”

He chuckled, meeting her solemn stare. Physically, the child was like a female copy of her father, dark hair and eyes, pale skin dotted with freckles and beauty spots (thankfully lacking the over-large ears) but personality-wise, she was Rey all over again. Luke couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his apprentice, the same tightly-wound expression and firm jaw, as he performed the same spell on her.

“Close your eyes and take three deep breaths,” he instructed, watching as she did so. “Deep breaths. Focus on the sound around us, the water and the birds, and imagine you’re a part of it. A fish in the stream, a yellow butterfly, a squeaking pheasant -”

She smiled at that, but her eyes remained closed, and she quickly schooled her expression to a more relaxed state. 

“Gods and spirits, above and below and all around us,” he intoned, fingers moving in the air around them, conjuring a fine spider-net of golden light around her head and shoulders. “As you know the true name of all things, grant us the knowledge to know our true selves…”

  
  


Not all children felt comfortable sharing their names with their parents, and if anyone understood the need for that hesitation, it was Rey Solo. Still, she hoped, as she watched and waited on her front porch, ostensibly hanging herbs out to dry in the late summer warmth. Daisy played in the yard, chasing a flirtatious butterfly, and she watched the cat with a blank expression as her thoughts swarmed in her head.

“I can hear you worrying,” Ben said as he came out from the goat pen. “She’s still ours, Rey.”

“I know,” she sighed, letting her hands fall from the lemon balm tangle she had finished hanging. “I just… I want her to know she can trust us. And I hope - I hope we gave her that.”

“Trust goes two ways, sweetheart,” he chided gently, setting down the milking buckets in his hands to come and wrap her in his arms. “If you want Summer to trust you, you have to trust her.”

Rey sighed. She had tried. She really  _ had _ , but… Somewhere inside, something that should have been in her heart was broken, beyond even Ben’s ability to repair. He was a better parent than her, and she was grateful for that, but it was hard to reconcile the need to have her daughter’s approval with her inability to grant her the same closeness she shared with her father.

The movement she’d been waiting for caught her off-guard, and she wheeled away from her husband, watching her grinning daughter race across the empty road and fling herself into her father’s embrace.

“I did it, Dad! I got it right this time!”

“I knew you would.” He brushed a bit of leaf out of her hair as he set her down, and Summer turned to embrace her mother.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her mother’s neck, pressing her face close to whisper in her ear as Rey held her and cried.

“Mom,” she hesitated, and Rey stilled. “What’s yours?”

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, meeting Ben’s eye over their daughter’s shoulder, before leaning down to answer.

“ _ Kira. _ ”

“I’m  _ Rhianne, _ ” the girl whispered back, and Rey squeezed her tightly, crying and laughing all at once.

“My little summer child! It’s perfect!” She held her out at arm’s length, meeting the expressive eyes that betrayed her every emotion, just like her father’s. “Do you like it?”

Rhianne nodded solemnly.

“I do, but… Can it be a secret?” She glanced up at her father worriedly, and Rey could see his brows raise in surprise. “Just between you and me?”

“Of course, sweetheart. I won’t tell anyone.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Rey kissed her forehead tenderly. “Do you want to go put the kettle on so we can have Master Luke in for tea?”

The little girl nodded, her expression turning solemn as she went to walk by her father, and he smoothed a hand over head affectionately.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ben assured her calmly. “You’ll always be my Summer child.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

Ben shrugged as Rey got to her feet, and they came together, his arm around her shoulders and hers snug about his waist, watching their daughter move around the kitchen with practised ease.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“You win some, you lose some.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad she told you.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” She chuckled slightly, leaning into his embrace, and he peered down at her curiously. “It’s just funny. I married Winter and gave birth to Summer, just like a goddess.”

“Spring,” he said softly. “You’re a springtime goddess.”

“What about Autumn?”

The porch creaked behind them, and they both turned, Rey abruptly breaking into a fit giggles as Master Luke reached the top of the stairs. The old witch gave her a faint look of disapproval, then squinted past them through the screen door.

“You kids going to offer an old man supper, or should I start walking into town?” He grumbled. “I might not be here next year, you know. This could be our last visit.”

“Every year you say that, and yet here you are,” Ben rolled his eyes gesturing for Luke to precede him. “Summer’s working on it. Please, come in.”

Rey caught his eye as their old master shuffled inside, grumping and groaning about the abominable heat and how he was far too old to be making these trips. 

Ben smirked, and she winked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am on Tumblr still as khawapashitheelder and Twitter as @khawapashi if you want to say hi, geek out about SW, or ask for recipes! I'm not great at social media, but I try.


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